


death of the undying, life of the (presumed) dead

by starryeyedchar



Series: The Meaning of Hyacinths (Roy Mustang Can't Catch A Break AU) [6]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Roy Mustang, Hurt/Comfort, Maes Hughes Lives, Major Character Injury, Major Character Undeath, Parental Maes Hughes, Parental Riza Hawkeye, Parental Roy Mustang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:48:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24426775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryeyedchar/pseuds/starryeyedchar
Summary: "Do you know Roy Mustang?” Maes demanded of the homunculus. Havoc tensed out of the corner of his eye, but Maes paid him no mind. He watched the woman’s expression for any sign of recognition, and found instead… amusement.“The Flame Colonel?” she asked, smiling again. “The Hero of Ishval? I’d say very few people don’t know of him. Very handsome, wasn’t he? Pity he had to die alone, like that.”Fury flooded Maes’ veins, and he itched to lunge at this woman and strangle her… but he held back, kept the shotgun steady. “Yes,” Maes said, carefully keeping his voice even. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”Or the one where a homunculus loses a fight at the third laboratory. And another homunculus wins a fight elsewhere.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric & Maes Hughes, Alphonse Elric & Riza Hawkeye, Edward Elric & Maes Hughes, Edward Elric & Roy Mustang, Gracia Hughes/Maes Hughes, Maes Hughes & Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye & Maes Hughes, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Series: The Meaning of Hyacinths (Roy Mustang Can't Catch A Break AU) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1241264
Comments: 161
Kudos: 343





	1. hate the sin

**Author's Note:**

> I am SO sorry for the wait! I didn't mean to take a hiatus from this AU, but it sort of ended up happening, and it's been far too long since I updated. Whatever the case, it's summer now, which means lots of free time to write and this AU is again my number one priority because you have all been so unbelievably sweet in your responses. Please leave comments down below, as whenever it takes me a while to update something I'm worried I may have lost part of my audience. I hope you enjoy this update! Thank you so much if you've stuck by this AU.
> 
> I also am sorry for this being another two parter, although the second part of this is already well underway, and will be up as soon as I can get it out. This work deals with the events that take place in the third laboratory, which was a bit hard for me to figure out how to handle (and I'd love to hear your thoughts on how I changed the plot, here!), and the second part will be less altered stuff from the show and more direct fallout of everything that happens here in relation to my AU. Which is to say, the next part will be less episode-event-based and focus more on Roy, which is who I know you're all eager to see. 
> 
> That said, I'm very happy with how this chapter turned out, and I hope you all enjoy! Without further delay (again, my apologies), happy reading!

Everyone in Maes’ office seemed to sober up the moment Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye walked in, and he couldn’t exactly blame them. Though he knew her stony expression was a facade meant to make her next words more believable, the fact that it was directed at him still sent chills down his spine.

She strode directly up toward his desk, and opened her mouth as if to begin speaking immediately only to salute him as what appeared to be an afterthought.

Maes fought the urge to smile at her. As if any amount of questionable behavior from a superior would have made _Hawkeye_ forget her position. Even when Roy was being an idiot, she’d still always called him ‘sir.’

“At ease,” Maes said, doing his best to sound mildly confused. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I’m formally requesting a leave of absence, sir,” Hawkeye said, sliding the paper across his desk. All the soldiers working on the other side of the room were openly staring in their direction. _Good._

“At a time like this?” Maes asked. “With everything that’s been going on?”

“Is it out of line?” Hawkeye’s voice was tight. Maes had known she could be impossible to read when she wanted to be, but not that she was this good of an actress.

“No, it’s fine,” Maes said slowly, and waved a dismissive hand. “Fine, approved.”

“Thank you very much.” Hawkeye turned on her heel, which resulted in all of the officers at their desks immediately averting their gazes. Once she had stalked out of the room and very deliberately slammed the door, they were all staring in Maes’ direction again. Maes busied himself, but kept his ears open. He didn’t have to wait long for them to begin gossiping; he’d been dealing with it for several days now.

“What was that all about?” one whispered.

“What do you _think_ it was about? She's clearly pissed, and I don’t blame her. I mean, would you want to work for the man who let your former superior officer’s murderer get away?”

A third soldier glanced at Maes uneasily. “He’s right over there. What if he hears you?”

“What if he does?” the second asked. “He’s too much of a coward to take any real action, even against his best friend’s _killer_. I doubt he’d have the nerve to do anything to us.”

Maes didn’t flinch, didn’t even glance in their direction. This was what he’d wanted **—** if people looked down on him, if they thought of him as a mere joke incapable of accomplishing anything, no one would look twice when he really began investigating.

After waiting enough time to allow Riza to get back to her apartment, Maes dialed her number. “Gracia!” he exclaimed, at which point every other person in the room visibly rolled their eyes. “I miss you _so_ much. Today is just going by so slowly. How’s Elicia?”

“Just got back from school,” Hawkeye replied, her voice so bright and positive it sounded unrecognizable. Over the phone line, it would’ve been hard to tell her voice apart from his actual wife’s. “She misses you, too. Say, dear, why don’t you spend a little more time at home? Elicia’s a growing girl, she needs her father, and you’ve been working so _hard_ lately.”

Maes felt a stab of guilt at the words, because even if they weren’t actually coming from Gracia, they still rang true. His wife and daughter really did deserve better, but whatever time he wasn’t working had been devoted primarily to finding out who was behind Roy’s murder. And while he didn’t regret the choice he’d made to seek revenge, and he certainly wouldn’t change his mind… he still felt bad.

Regardless, there was no time to dwell on that now. He’d finally gotten everyone out of his way, which meant they could truly get to work.

“That does sound nice,” Maes muttered. “I could use a break. Tell you what, sweetheart, I’ll look into taking a short leave, see if maybe we might be able to go on a sort of family vacation. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“That would be wonderful, dear. What about a camping trip?” Hawkeye asked, meaning dripping into her words. “Hiking, toasting marshmallows by the fire.”

“I’d like that,” Maes agreed. “And hey, I haven’t been fishing in a while.”

“Fishing sounds lovely,” Hawkeye said. “I’m going to have to let you go, however. Elicia had some friends over, and I promised them I’d make snacks. I’ll see you when you get home, dearest.”

“Love you, Gracia,” Maes told her. The words were natural, but it felt odd to say them to someone else. He shook his head to clear it. _Stay focused_ , he told himself, and took out a picture of his wife and daughter from his wallet. With a fond sigh, he showed it to the officer who’d called him a coward earlier, who just happened to be grabbing some papers from near Maes’ desk. “Isn’t my wife just the most wonderful woman alive?”

The soldier groaned, and went back to his own desk with the files he’d found.

Maes smiled to himself.

* * *

Riza Hawkeye stared down her scope, wondering yet again just what the hell they were up against. Everything had gained a sense of surreality since the Colonel’s death— _Major General_ , she had to keep reminding herself, though the words never felt quite right —and that included the enemies they had to face. The man attacking Lieutenant Havoc could only be described as… savage. Also, perhaps, large and menacing.

Actually, there were several words Riza could think of. None of them boded particularly well for them, though.

The unknown man had broken into the room where Falman had been keeping watch over Barry, which led to Havoc promptly joining the fray and chasing him into the street. Because of course he had. Havoc seemed hellbent on making their secret investigation into Roy’s death headline news.

Riza watched the fight with mild interest.. She had to admit that Havoc was a formidable opponent, and he was holding his own rather well. Barry was assisting him, of course, but Riza hesitated to count this as two against one. The empty suit of armor seemed more intent on catching the suspect than killing him, and insisted upon injuring his body as little as possible. Most likely because it was _his_ body. Or at least he claimed it was.

Riza didn’t know if she believed it. Barry seemed positive, but… if his body was being used by someone who didn’t want the truth to come out, did that mean Alphonse’s body was out there, too, somewhere? She doubted the enemy would have much use for a fourteen year old boy, no matter who they were, but the very thought sent shivers up her spine.

Havoc cried out from the street below, and Riza’s thoughts dissipated like a light fog, her gaze zeroing in on the fight still raging on below her. She spotted the source of his distress immediately— a bullet had jammed in the chamber of his gun. Riza tutted absently; she was always telling him to invest in the latest model. Barry’s supposed body had already lunged forward, hands reaching out, looking set to claw at Havoc’s face.

Riza wasted no more time in firing a shot. It struck Barry’s body directly in the center of his hand, and he reared back with the pain, crashing into a nearby crate and landing flat on his back. Riza kept her rifle trained on him. She didn’t know how fast it would recover.

She could have killed it. But she shouldn’t; there were plenty of reasons. If they wanted to keep Barry on their side, for one. If they wanted to see if his body could give them any answers, for another, though it seemed little more than a puppet on strings, no longer bound to Barry’s will at all.

“Don’t worry,” Havoc said into his ear piece, audibly relieved. “We’ve got the hawk's eye on our side.” Falman looked up to the tower in which Riza was positioned, and she sighed. _Amateurs._

“I heard a loud noise, what happened?”

Maes had, of course, tuned in at the sound of a gunshot from her position. If they had to use their sniper, it meant things were bad. “Oh, nothing, dear,” Riza said, doing her best to sound like his wife and most likely failing miserably. “One of Elicia’s friends just knocked something over I’m afraid.”

“You don’t need any help cleaning up when I get home though, do you, Gracia? I could always leave early to—”

“No, that’s fine, thank you sweetheart,” Riza cut him off. Maes really wasn’t much good at secret keeping at the best of times, and his stress levels were understandably running high. She understood his need to feel like he was doing his part, but if the enemy knew that the Head of Investigations was sticking his nose where it didn’t belong? He might meet the same fate as Roy, or worse.

Maybe they’d make him like Barry. Use him to make a philosopher’s stone.

They couldn’t risk that. _She_ couldn’t risk letting everything they’d done up until then, letting Roy’s _death_ , be in vain.

A noise came from behind her, and Riza whirled around, firing on the spot. Her bullet struck the shoulder of… an impossibly large man, who loomed over her with an eerie grin on his babyish face. How he had managed to sneak up on her was anyone’s guess, but no matter. He was unarmed, and therefore shouldn’t be much of a threat.

The crackling red energy that healed the gunshot wound almost instantaneously before her very eyes did, however, complicate matters.

“I’ll have to call you back, dearest,” Riza said into the mic, keeping her voice carefully even. “Elicia is calling me. It seems her friend broke a vase.”

She fired off several shots in quick succession, but though they forced the hulking figure several steps backward, each one was healed by more red sparks.

“Gracia?!” Maes sounded alarmed, which wasn’t exactly surprising. He could probably hear the gunshots on the other end. Code names could only do so much. “What’s… are you _sure_ you don’t need me to come home?”

Riza rolled her eyes. “I can handle this.” Though she might run out of bullets soon, she was sure she could improvise. Besides, if Hughes was seen and recognized by whoever these people were, the whole plan would be for nothing. Everything they _did_ would be for nothing. Everything Roy did.

And Riza simply could not allow that.

* * *

Maes had listened to the gunshots on the other end of the line, and even though the Lieutenant had assured him she had it under control— as she always did —he still didn’t hesitate. He gave what was probably a sorry excuse, and dismissed himself from his office, rushing to where he knew Hawkeye and Havoc were fighting… whoever they were fighting.

He evidently made the right choice, as he arrived just in time to see Lieutenant Hawkeye and Sergeant Fuery run out of ammo, firing their last rounds into… an _enormous_ man who healed immediately after they shot him, his wounds closing and leaving no mark on his skin.

Of course. Why not?

No matter. The mysterious man was standing directly in front of a window. Even if he could heal gunshot wounds, with enough force they could blow him right off the building. After falling from this many stories, it really wouldn’t matter if he could heal.

Luckily, he’d brought a shotgun. Maes had never particularly been a fan of firearms, but he could admit that sometimes they were necessary. He’d always preferred his knives, but these days, if he _had_ to use a gun, it was usually go big or go home in his book. Havoc agreed.

Maes fired at the man once, twice, and watched as the toothy smile fell from his face as both shots hit their mark somewhere on the man’s torso. Maes wasn’t the best shot, but this man didn’t exactly make for a small target. The combined force of the blasts sent him right over the edge.

Hawkeye and Fuery both stared at the now unblocked window, and only turned back to look Maes when a large crash sounded from below them, dust blowing into the air.

“Well. Maybe I should use these more often.” Maes grinned at both of them in turn. “Are you two all right?”

Fuery opened his mouth to respond, but Hawkeye did so before he could, her initial expression of surprise already having switched to an all too familiar irritation.

“Sir,” she began, voice falsely calm. “I thought I told you I could handle this.”

“I heard you,” Maes said. “But I came anyway. And it’s a good thing I did, too. Who _was_ that?”

“More like what,” Fuery spoke up. “No matter how many times we shot him, the injury healed just seconds later.”

“I saw. Maybe we should get the hell out of dodge before he comes back up, huh?”

“With all due respect, Lieutenant Colonel,” began Hawkeye, anger edging into he tone this time. “Are you as entirely dimwitted as Colonel Mustang would have had us all believe?”

Maes blinked. “What?”

Hawkeye glared at him. “You shouldn’t have come here, regardless of the danger we may or may not have been in,” she said. “By abandoning your post and appearing here with us, you’ll give everything we’ve done so far away. If whoever we’re up against here had something to do with Roy’s death, they’ll be suspicious, which is exactly what we’ve been trying to _avoid_ with all this secrecy!”

“You expected me to not come help after I heard _gunshots_ on the other line?” Maes asked, incredulous. “You wanted me to just go about my day?!”

“Of course! If we ever expect to find out who killed the Colonel—”

“I came to help _because_ of what happened to Roy!” Maes snapped. “I ignored a call from my best friend, and he ended up _dead_ because of it. Did you really think I would be able to sit in my office, with no idea what was happening to you all, after hearing those gunshots? I… Christ, Hawkeye, I couldn’t stop myself from picturing it. The phone booth, the blood, it was _everywhere,_ and I—” He stopped. Shook his head. “I wasn’t about to let that happen again. Not if I could stop it this time. I won’t make the same mistake as I did then. _I’m not losing anyone else_.”

The Lieutenant’s expression had softened, somewhat, but she still looked doubtful. Fuery was simply looking between the two of them solemnly. “I… understand where you’re coming from,” Hawkeye said. “But we can’t let our emotions get in the way of acting with the utmost discretion and caution. We suspect the involvement of higher ups, which means getting found out could mean the end for _all_ of us.” She paused, hesitating. “You cannot prioritize my one life over the mission”

“The hell I can’t!” Maes couldn’t believe his ears. “Did you not hear me? I want to avenge Roy as much as you do, and we _will_ , but even if that’s the top priority, I’m not going to put secrecy over the safety of everyone involved, which means I’m not leaving any of you behind. _No one_ else dies, not on my watch.” He paused, a lump forming in his throat. “I’m pretty sure Roy would come back just to haunt me if I let anything happen to his team. I may not be him, but you’re all important to me, too.”

Hawkeye nodded, not looking entirely pleased but seeming at least to accept his words, and turned to Fuery. “Sergeant, Black Hayate, you stay here. Keep communications open.” She looked back at Maes. “What now, sir?”

“We’ll join Havoc,” he said. “Does the suspect they’re engaged with also possess this mysterious healing ability?”

She shook her head.

“Good. Maybe we’ll be able to get some answers out of him. Let’s go, Lieutenant.” The two of them started down the stairs of the building, where they could still hear the vague sounds of Havoc and Barry fighting with what Hawkeye informed him was apparently Barry’s human _body,_ which just raised more questions. He turned the information over in his head, wondering what this could mean for the Elrics, for Alphonse, for whoever they were up against… when Hawkeye interrupted his train of thought.

“Thank you, sir, for what you said back there,” she said softly. “I’m sorry if I was overly cross with you for intervening. I think… I think he would’ve done the same.”

 _Of course Roy would’ve gone to your aid_ , Maes wanted to say. _He was head over heels for you._ But saying so would only hurt her, especially when she already knew it. Roy wasn’t here, and they both had to deal with that. The least Maes could do was look out for the woman his best friend had been in love with. Not that she much needed his help, beyond this particular instance. But they’d help each other. They had the same goals, after all.

“Of course he would, the reckless bastard,” Maes said instead, earning a small laugh from Hawkeye. “But you’re welcome. Don’t forget; obviously the purpose in all of this is to avenge Roy, but you can’t lose sight of the big picture. He wouldn’t want us to completely throw our lives away for him, and if we expose whatever corruption is going on in the senior staff, we won’t just have found Roy’s killer, the whole country will be better for it. And if all goes according to plan, _you’ll_ be leading. By that logic, you’re far less expendable than I am.”

Hawkeye’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I disagree, sir,” she said. “And I still don’t know if I’m the best choice for that role. I’ve hardly had much experience with leading. Is there no one else who might be—?”

“If it can’t be Roy, it should be you,” Maes interrupted. “I meant what I said at the funeral.”

Hawkeye sighed. “So did I,” she muttered, then quickened her pace. “We should hurry, Havoc may need our assistance.”

Maes grinned at her. “ _Lead_ the way,” he said, winking. Hawkeye rolled her eyes in a long-suffering way that was... so painfully similar to Roy the smile fell right off his face.

* * *

Ed hadn’t known _what_ to expect when Major Armstrong insisted they go to Xerxes, beyond the obvious fact that Maria Ross would be there. Hawkeye had told him as much. The Major had clearly not been given the same information ahead of time, as he burst into tears upon seeing the Second Lieutenant and proceeded to chase her around for a hug.

Ross greeted Edward, too, but he couldn’t bring himself to do more than exchange a few pleasantries and wave. She didn’t seem to notice— or, if she did, mind —his slightly awkward behavior, and immediately started telling them the whole story of her unjust imprisonment and subsequent escape, and how Lieutenant Colonel Hughes had been so _kind_ to help her, and how she was sure he would find out the real culprit in no time at all.

Ed felt increasingly more uncomfortable with every word. He felt horrible for ever suspecting her in the first place, and he of course knew she was innocent _now_ , but that did nothing to assuage the guilt. He’d… Ed had never killed anyone before, and yet he’d been fully prepared to adhere to the orders to shoot Ross on sight. He’d thought she’d killed Mustang without any real evidence pointing to that fact. He’d been angry and grieving, sure, but that didn’t excuse his actions. Hughes had felt the same way, and he’d still bothered to question what the military had told him. He’d helped Ross _escape_. What had Edward done, besides yell at Hughes like a petulant child?

And so he welcomed the chance to explore Xerxes on his own a bit. Not that there was much to explore, but walking around the ruins of a kingdom long since destroyed appealed to Ed more than listening to Maria Ross express again and again how glad she was that Edward believed in her, because he _hadn’t_. He could’ve helped her in her escape, too. He should have.

Maybe… maybe Hughes was right. Maybe they should be working together. If Edward wanted to find Mustang’s killer and bring them to justice— something that had become almost as important to him as recovering Al’s body, at this point —it would probably happen a lot faster if they worked together.

Still, though. He’d lied to their _faces,_ told them Roy was in East City. Ed couldn’t forgive that so easily. To him, nothing was more hurtful than false hope. Hughes should’ve just told them the truth, not treated them like children. Like they’d never suffered a _loss_ before, when they sure as hell had.

He came to a stop in his aimless wandering in front of a partially destroyed transmutation circle. It looked incredible similar to the one on the Fifth Laboratory, the one that he _speculated_ had been used to make philosophers’ stones. That… _that_ was interesting. Could the creation and use of a stone in the wrong hands have caused the unexplainable destruction of this place?

...Did Hughes know anything that would help explain this?

Ed didn’t have any more time to debate with himself on whether or not he could trust the Lieutenant Colonel again, because he became very abruptly aware that he was no longer alone.

He easily dodged the attack from behind, managing to pin the man to the ground and making him drop his weapon in the process. “I’ll tell you right now, I don’t have any money,” he said, glaring down at him. Not exactly a lie; he didn’t have any cash on him, though his silver pocket watch could probably sell for a lot. The stranger glared right back, and Ed found himself shocked at the sight of red eyes. “You’re Ishvalan?”

No sooner had he said this than well over a dozen more Ishvalans approached him from behind various ruins, all wearing the same scowl as the one he had yet to loosen his hold on. Edward couldn’t really blame them for their hatred of Amestris, and he certainly couldn’t blame them for what Scar— the only Ishvalan he’d ever met before all this —had done to Mustang, but judging by the looks on the faces of all the people surrounding him, he really wasn’t going to like what would happen next.

He’d fight his way out, if he had to.

“Young man,” began an elderly, scarred Ishvalan who appeared to hold some authority in the group. “Would you mind being our hostage so we can take back our holy land from the State Military?”

Oh, brilliant. What did he expect Ed to do, _agree_? Honestly. It didn’t matter, though. He loosened his grip on the man he had pinned. “The military would never take action over one kid, like me,” he said, and it was the truth. Even though Ed was one of their most powerful alchemists— arguably _the_ most powerful, especially now that Roy was… gone —they’d never give up land for his life. The military had no shortage of pawns to use, and they didn’t care about one-off deaths that posed no real threat to the nation. They’d proven that when they couldn’t get their heads out of their asses enough to do a proper investigation for the murder of one of their own. One of the most well respected among them.  
The military had never cared about Ed, _or_ his brother. The only person who had was… was…

Dead. _Roy_.

Ed wondered, not for the first or last time, when he would get over it already. He was _sick_ of the pain in his chest whenever his thoughts circled back to Colonel Mustang, thanks.

The scarred Ishvalan man’s face bore a hint of irritation, now. Ed forced himself to refocus on the conversation at hand as the man spoke again. “A single child’s death triggered the civil war,” he said. “You never know what will be the catalyst that changes history.”

Ah. Words perfectly poetic and yet ominous. Edward scowled at him, unsure whether he should take the words as a legitimate threat. Before he could decide on a response, though, a new voice spoke up for him.

“Stop it. This is a disgrace.” Ed turned to see an old Ishvalan woman with a makeshift patch covering one eye, clutching a cane in one hand and the arm of a young Ishvalan who looked to be about Ed’s age in the other, both helping her walk.

“Madam Shan.” The first Ishvalan’s voice was a surprised whisper. Clearly, this lady was someone important.

“You fool,” Madam Shan continued. “Are you trying to bring shame on the name of Ishvala?”

The scarred man actually had the nerve to look dejected.

“You can let him go,” said the boy who was helping Madam Shan walk. “He won’t attack you again.”

Ed hesitated, looking around at the group surrounding him. Giving up his only advantage wouldn’t be smart, but this woman had just spoke out against the man attempting to take _Ed_ for a hostage. If he couldn’t trust her, he was pretty much screwed regardless. He let go of the Ishvalan’s arm and stood up, dusting off his cloak.

“Why’d you help me?” he wondered, equal parts intrigued and wary. “Aren’t you guys supposed to hate Amestrians?”

“Because I know not all Amestrians are bad,” Madam Shan said, plain and simple. As if the words should be common knowledge.

Edward hadn’t ever heard of an Ishvalan feeling that way. Though, to be honest, the only one he’d met in person was Scar, who he hoped was more of an outlier than the norm. And he wasn’t so naive that he couldn’t recognize blatant propaganda and racism when he saw it, even if it was coming from his own people. Still… how had she come to feel this way?

“Madam Shan and I were saved by Amestrian doctors when we were severely injured during the civil war,” the boy explained, and _jeez_ , he’d fought in the war? Or at least been close enough to the carnage to be injured by it. But… he couldn’t have been more than a child when it happened. “Honestly, I do hate you, but it’s thanks to that doctor couple that I’m still alive today.”

 _Doctor_ _c_ _ouple._

The words seemed to play over and over in Edward’s head, and all other thoughts left his brain.

“Couple?” he echoed, unable to disguise his surprise. “They wouldn’t happen to have been named Rockbell, would they?”

Surprise registered on both of their faces as well, and Madam Shan and the boy looked at each other. “You’re… you’re a friend of Dr. Rockbell?” the boy asked.

Ed didn’t know to which doctor he was referring to, but it didn’t matter. These people had met Winry’s _parents_ , who he’d always referred to as Aunt and Uncle. Both of whom he’d always wished he’d known better when they were all young. Before tragedy struck all three of them. “Y-Yeah.”

And just like that, the boy was smiling. Madam Shan, too. “The doctors saved the lives of many Ishvalans,” he told Ed, and Ed felt a small smile appear on his face.

“No kidding,” he murmured. He’d have to tell Winry about this, when he saw her next. He knew it would put a smile on her face, too, and that was always a nice thing to see.

“When the fighting became severe, they stayed with us,” Madam Shan continued, still grinning faintly. Ed, however, felt his own smile disappear.

“How did they… how did they meet their end?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It was painfully similar to his thoughts about Mustang of late; he didn’t know if he’d be able to bear what he found out, and yet… he just _had_ to know. There was a small part of him that would never stop wondering otherwise.

Both Madam Shan’s and the boy helping her eyes widened with shock, expressions turning more solemn. Madam Shan dipped her head in what seemed to be a preemptive apology, her eyes closing once more. “The two of them were killed by an Ishvalan patient they’d helped.”

 _Oh. “_ No...”

Ed’s stomach dropped. Winry… Winry would not be happy to hear _that_ at all.

Should he even tell her? Keeping the knowledge from her would be cruel, but… so would telling her, right?

Maybe he really shouldn’t have asked.

“I’m sorry,” Madam Shan told him, and to her credit, she did sound genuine. “We were unable to stop it.”

As if Ed would somehow blame her for what happened. As if he would blame them.

“Who was it?!” he asked, again. His voice had unintentionally risen to a shout. Winry’s parents were dead. It was in the past. So was what happened to Roy, and yet…

“I don’t know his name, but he was an Ishvalan monk who had a tattoo on his right arm.”

And yet.

Edward’s fists clenched, fury rising in him so abrupt and strong that it was all he could do to keep it contained. He knew _exactly_ who Madam Shan was referring to.

 _Scar_.

The rest of the conversation passed in a blur, and Edward accepted her request, though he wandered off again on his own as soon as he got the chance. His mind reeled, all his thoughts feeling far away. He could barely think through his rage.

Scar _… he_ was the one who had…?

Hughes had been right in saying that Edward probably couldn’t have pulled the trigger on Ross, in retrospect. He’d never killed anyone before, but… he’d also never really _wanted_ to, not until now. Edward had no idea what he would do the next time he saw Scar.

And he _would_ see that bastard again. He knew he had to, now. If not for Winry’s parents, then for Mustang.

What was it Hughes had said? That Scar wasn’t a suspect, because the Colonel had been shot?

Scar had killed Winry’s parents with a weapon, though. Clearly he used more than just his destructive alchemy, and if his powers hadn’t worked on Mustang the first time, who was to say that Scar wouldn’t have taken more drastic measures?

That was the reason Mustang had had the extra security around him at all times in the first place, wasn’t it? Because Edward was _there_ , he had seen the murderous intent in Scar’s eyes firsthand. Scar had been so… so _close_ to killing Mustang, and he absolutely would have if they hadn’t shown up when they did.

If he was willing to kill two doctors who had _saved his life…_ well. It wasn’t exactly hard to see what an Ishvalan’s motivation for killing Roy Mustang might be. So, how did Hughes rule him out so quickly? How did they know that Scar wasn’t behind Mustang’s death, after all?

Edward resolved to find out himself, the moment he was back in Amestris.

* * *

Alphonse felt a little bit bad about just up and leaving Winry and Ling like that, but… well, he liked Ling well enough, and Al knew he’d be able to protect Winry if anything went horribly wrong. Not that Winry couldn’t handle herself— Al had seen her with a wrench enough times to be intimidated by her —and not that he thought anything _would_ go terribly wrong… though it seemed more likely than not, these days.

That was the whole reason why Al was doing this, though. So that things didn’t go terribly, horribly, irrevocably wrong.

Not again, at least.

If Mr. Hughes was going after the people behind what had happened at the Fifth Laboratory, the people who had in theory _killed the Colonel…_ he wanted in. He wanted to be there to help.

Al was more sure than ever that those two strange, tattooed people they’d met were at least involved _somehow,_ especially after what they’d seen in Dublith. If those two had powers as strong as what Greed could do, maybe they’d have been strong enough to defeat even someone as powerful as Colonel Mustang. Maybe there were _more_ of them. Whatever the case, something strange was going on, and Al intended to get to the bottom of it. He couldn’t just sit on the sidelines while Mr. Hughes and the others rushed into battle. He refused to see anyone else he cared about get hurt.

And he knew Ed wouldn’t have wanted him to go, would have said that it was dangerous, that Lieutenant Colonel Hughes couldn’t be trusted anyway. But… Ed wasn’t there to stop him.

Ed may have been content to leave the Colonel’s— and honestly, their _own_ —closest confidants up to their own devices in solving his murder, but Al wasn’t. It had gotten to the point where he didn’t care that Mr. Hughes had lied to them. Al understood why he’d done it, and he now also understood that they were far stronger when they all worked together. And again, no one else was going to get hurt, not if Al could stop it.

So, he went.

And he was glad he did. Mr. Hughes and Colonel Mustang’s old team seemed to be on the move, as when Alphonse followed the sound of gunshots he saw Second Lieutenant Havoc running to get into a car, in which Mr. Hughes and Lieutenant Hawkeye already sat. Hughes’ eyes widened when they landed on Al.

“This has something to do with the Colonel’s death, right?” Al asked, and Hughes looked surprised. Al didn’t blame him, after how vehemently Ed had made his own thoughts known. “I want to help.”

“Alphonse, you may have that big suit of armor, but you’re still only fourteen years old,” Mr. Hughes said, though he looked conflicted. “This could be dangerous, and I can’t in good conscience—”

“I can _help_ ,” Al insisted. “None of you know alchemy, right? Let me help.”

Hughes hesitated. “Did… does your brother know that you’re—”

“Ed may not forgive you yet, but I do,” Alphonse told him. He glanced ahead, surprised when he recognized none other than Barry the Chopper. “If you don’t let me come with you, I’ll just follow you anyway.”

Havoc chuckled from where he’d already slid into the backseat. “Damn, and I thought the chief was the stubborn one.”

Al glanced at him, but ultimately turned back to Mr. Hughes. “We’re wasting time.”

Hughes sighed. “Get in.”

Which was how Al found himself squished into the small military car next to Havoc, who did no small amount of grumbling under his breath. He felt… admittedly, a bit bad about pestering Hughes to let him go, but he was proud of himself for not taking no for an answer. He wasn’t about to let anyone else die, and if he could protect them even a small amount with the power he had from remembering the Gate, then… that’s what he had to do.

Al’s optimistic thoughts were soured a bit, though, when Hawkeye mentioned being confronted by a guy who had healed after being shot in several critical areas.

“...By any chance, did he have an Ouroboros tattoo?” Al was almost afraid to hear the answer.

“A tattoo?” Hawkeye echoed. “He had a red one on his tongue, though I didn’t see it too clearly… could that be what you mean?”

Al exchanged a look with Mr. Hughes, who he knew had heard about the tattoos already, following what had happened at the Fifth Laboratory. Although, all Hughes had to go on so far was that it meant bad news.

“We saw them at the fifth laboratory,” Al explained, and he knew that was what this team was investigating, but…if there were more, then they should know. “That was probably a Homunculus.”

“Homunculus?” Hughes repeated, expression calculating. “As in, a man made person? But… that’s just an old story. Roy… Roy’s told me before, when I used to pester him about the limits of alchemy. But he assured me creating a person from alchemy wasn’t possible. There’s no such thing.”

“Well, I met one in Dublith,” Al said. “He had the tattoo, and he told me and Ed that ‘there’s no such thing as no such thing.’”

“Cryptic,” Havoc muttered, from beside him. “Sounds like kind of a douche.”

“His name was Greed,” Al continued, not to be deterred. “And even if it sounds ridiculous, he had incredible regenerative abilities, too. One second half of his head was destroyed, and then the next he was back to normal.” Al drew in a breath.. “I know… I know you might not believe me, and I haven’t given you much reason to have faith in me, lately, but—”

“I believe you,” Hawkeye said immediately, her voice kind. “After what I saw? It makes more sense than anything I could come up with.”

“I saw it too,” Hughes agreed. “Though I could hardly believe my own _eyes._ I’m guessing that means that me blowing him away and out of the window wasn’t enough to kill him then, either?”

If Al could grimace, he would have. “...Probably not.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Hughes said, voice full of sarcastic cheer. “I’m sure that reunion will go splendidly.”

* * *

In hindsight, Maes knew splitting up was probably an extremely stupid idea. But the excuse of finding the ‘homicidal maniac’ who was actually sort of on their side would only last for so long, and the third laboratory was fairly large, which meant that in order to cover the most ground in their search, it simply was more efficient to split into two groups. And so, once the laboratory had been properly evacuated and they’d gone to the darker, lower floors, he sent Hawkeye off with Alphonse while he and Havoc continued in a different direction.

Of course, he regretted choosing to do so the minute the woman with the Ouroboros tattoo showed up. Alphonse was probably the only one who’d be able to do any real damage against her, and even then…

Maes shoved down his fear. He’d come here for a _reason_.

“How wonderfully unexpected,” she began, her bright red lips stretched into a smile that appeared almost too large for her face. Under different circumstances Maes would have thought her beautiful— not as beautiful as Gracia of course, but decent —but the bloodthirsty grin ruined the illusion.

“Cool tattoo you have there,” Maes said, with an attempt at a conversational tone of voice. “Where’d you get it?”

The woman ignored him, keeping her eyes fixed on Havoc, who stared back in return. His own expression was full of shock. Something uneasy weighed in Maes’ gut. “How rude of you to stand me up on our date,” she continued, and her eyes narrowed. “I’ve missed you, Jean.”

“Solaris? What are you doing here?”

Maes suppressed a groan. They knew each other, had been going on _dates_ no less. “Havoc, in case you hadn’t noticed, she has an Ouroboros tattoo. Its location is such that I find it very hard to believe that you wouldn’t have spotted it.”

Havoc’s face flushed, just slightly. “She always wore high-collared shirts,” he muttered. “Unfortunately.” Maes wondered if he was referring to her conservative choice of clothes, or the fact that he probably should’ve noticed this crucial detail earlier. Probably both.

He sighed. “You didn’t tell her anything important, did you?”

“Of course not, I’m not an _idiot._ ”

 _That remains to be seen_ , Maes thought, but turned back to the woman nonetheless. At least now her glare was directed at him. Him and the gun he already had pointed at her, the same shotgun he’d used against the other… Homunculus.

Maes didn’t care if Havoc had dated this woman or not. None of the semantics were important. There was _one_ reason he’d come here. For answers. So, he cut directly to the chase.

“Do you know Roy Mustang?” he demanded. Havoc tensed out of the corner of his eye, but Maes paid him no mind. He watched the woman’s expression for any sign of recognition, and found instead… amusement.

“The Flame Colonel?” she asked, smiling again. “The Hero of Ishval? I’d say very few people _don’t_ know of him. Very handsome, wasn’t he? Pity he had to die alone, like that.”

Fury flooded Maes’ veins, and he itched to lunge at this woman and strangle her… but he held back, kept the shotgun steady. He was smart enough to know he was outmatched, but he was going to stall for information as long as he possibly could. “Yes,” Maes said, carefully keeping his voice even. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“His death?” the woman asked, still with that infernal smile. “Regrettably, I wasn’t the one to deal the last blow. Did stab him in the shoulder, though, which seemed to slow him down a bit.”

If Maes had thought he was angry _before…_ well, he was pretty sure he’d just reached a level of rage he never had up until this point. They’d catalogued the wounds on Roy’s body well in the reports, just two of them if you didn’t count the broken leg— a deep stab wound to the shoulder and a bullet in the heart. That’s why there had been so much _blood_.

Maes had seen that part himself. It had overflowed from the phone booth, puddling across the street. A faint track of it on the wall where Roy had slid down.

He didn’t hesitate any longer. He aimed the shotgun down at the woman’s leg, and fired. She stumbled as the shotgun blast took out nearly her entire kneecap, but remained standing. Havoc didn’t make a sound beside him. Any conflict he’d felt at attacking her had clearly dissolved, and a glance over at him confirmed that he looked almost as pissed as Maes felt.

“On the ground, now,” Maes ordered. “Tell us everything you know about what happened to Roy, and I might be inclined to let you live.” A lie, of course. He’d kill this woman where she stood.

“Tempting as that exchange sounds, I’ll have to pass.” She rested a hand against the wound, and Maes watched as it healed before his very eyes, just like the man that had attacked Hawkeye in the tower. “You don’t really have anything that I want.”

Maes considered this. Maybe he couldn’t kill her, but he certainly wasn’t going to stop there. He fired several more rounds, and though he wasn’t too good of a shot, he managed to get her once in the head. Some sick part of him was satisfied at seeing someone who’d helped kill his best friend with a head that had been blown in, but the gratification of his revenge disappeared just as quickly as her new injuries did. He sighed. “Are you just going to keep doing that no matter how many times I shoot you?”

“It’ll take more than a few measly bullets to kill me,” she told him, smug.

“More than a few, got it.” Maes proceeded to unload the rest of his magazine. _That_ at least caused her to collapse. He paused to reload his gun, ignoring the way Havoc was staring at him. “Does it still hurt, at least?” _Like you hurt Roy?_ Honestly, he considered the use of his knives while she was still on the floor. He was more skilled with those and would probably be able to get information out of her more easily. But there was danger in getting close.

It took her a bit longer to reform completely now, and it certainly _seemed_ like she could feel the pain, judging by how the smile had been replaced with a look of rage that he was sure mirrored his own. Unfortunately for her, by the time she’d made it to her feet again his shotgun was already reloaded. Havoc had his pointed in her direction, too, though he hadn’t fired yet.

“Enough with the questions,” she snapped. “I think I’d really rather just kill you now.”

“Hang on just a minute,” Havoc said, taking several steps forward. “You’re… Solaris, you’re a Homunculus?!”

Maes thought that was pretty much obvious, at this point, what with the ridiculous healing abilities, but at least it seemed to make the woman a little less infuriated.

“How uncharacteristically clever of you, Jean,” she said. “Yes, I’m a Homunculus. And I’d prefer you call me by my real name, Lust. Still, I’ll throw you a bone, for being such a good dog.” Her fingers elongated, stretching into razor sharp points, and she plunged them into her chest.

Havoc winced. Maes didn’t.

They both watched as she peeled back the skin over her tattoo, revealing a shining red stone beneath, surrounded by muscle and sinew. It seemed to pulse, just barely, with a faint red glow and crackling energy that matched the look of whenever she healed her wounds. Already her skin seemed to be trying to knit itself together around her fingers.

“Do you know what this is?” she asked, then didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s a Philosopher’s Stone. Those of us created with these stones at our core are Homunculi.”

“So, you’re a monster,” Maes supplied. He’d never been one to beat around the bush.

“Well. I must say I resent that term,” Lust said, with a sniff. “We do have _feelings_. We care about our family, our father. In many ways, we are human.”

 _Family._ Maes didn’t think someone like her could comprehend the meaning of the word. After all, she’d apparently had a hand in taking his away. “I sincerely doubt that,” he said, simply. “Instead of a beating human heart, all you have is a glorified rock. Doesn’t sound very human to me.”

“Hughes—”

Maes ignored Havoc. If he wanted to antagonize this abomination, he’d damn well antagonize her, thank you very much.

Christ, he sounded like Roy.

Lust smirked. “I suppose, biologically speaking, I am quite different. But some of you _humans_ are quite monstrous as well. How many innocents did your Roy Mustang, supposed hero, kill with his flames in Ishval? Hundreds? Thousands? Some might say the world is better off without him.”

Roy had made the same argument himself, countless times. Roy had thought he _was_ a monster, up until the day of his death.

Until this woman— Lust —and whoever she was working with had killed him.

And now… now she had the nerve to _gloat_? To argue that the murder of his best friend was some sort of _justice_?

Maes could barely think through his anger.

She didn’t stop, though. “You want to know about his death? Will it please you to know that when I informed him that I would kill him, his only response was that he’d like to see me try? Or that before he made his escape, he burnt me to a crisp? He was very brave, and yet… I can also describe to you the way his flesh felt as I tore it apart.” Her she moved her freakishly pointed fingers in what almost resembled a wave. “How he looked as he limped out of the archive room, bleeding profusely, but still determined to live? I wish I’d been there to see that light leave his eyes, but I suppose we’ll both have to be satisfied with imagining what happened in that phone booth. As I’ve told you, I wasn’t there, and… well. You weren’t either, Lieutenant Colonel.”

And Maes… he _seethed._

“You’ll die for that,” he said, and it wasn’t even a threat anymore. Just a fact that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt.

He stormed forward, a thirst for vengeance consuming every fiber of his being as he pointed the shotgun directly at the exposed stone. Lust, watching him, quickly allowed her skin to reform, but Maes didn’t care. She could heal however many times she’d wanted, he’d just shoot her over and over again, until her miserable existence had ceased. If Roy didn’t get to live, then neither did she.

Lust swung her sharpened fingers his way, and he lifted the shotgun to blast them out of the way, but she was moving too quick, and—

And a force collided with his side, pushing him out of the way. He landed roughly on the floor and looked up just in time to see her spearlike fingers plunge into Havoc’s stomach… and come out through the other side.

Maes’ heart seized in his chest, but there was nothing he could do. Havoc dropped like a stone, a puddle of red slowly starting to spread across the ground where Maes lay.

He sucked in a horrified breath. Another mistake on his part, and another devastating loss. Another friend dead because of him. _All my fault._

“ _Havoc_?!” he cried, but got no response.

“Oh, how sad,” Lust said, not sounding sad at all. “You won’t be able to save him, either.”

Panic started to set in. Lust was still smirking down at him, walking slowly closer, and Havoc was… Havoc was badly injured at best, and at worst…

At worst, he’d just failed. He’d let someone else die.

_No._

Something… _snapped,_ inside Maes then. He didn’t know how he would beat this _thing_ wearing a human’s face, and he didn’t know if Havoc would be okay, but he _did_ know that he wouldn’t die here. He had to live. For Roy.

So, he dismissed his despair and, with a resolve he didn’t know he possessed, shot the woman in the upper arm, blowing the limb clean off. This time he kept his cool, tackling her to the ground and pinning her other arm to the floor with his heel so she couldn’t stab at him.

It was simple, really. The gunshots weren’t enough to kill her, sure, but she’d been foolish enough to show them the source of her power. Without that philosopher’s stone in her chest, what was she?

Nothing, as it turned out. She crumbled to dust right before his eyes just a few short moments after he reached down and tore the stone from her body.

He glanced back over at Havoc, conflicted. Supposedly, this stone should have been able to heal him. After all, it could do _anything._ But Maes didn’t know the first thing about alchemy, so he couldn’t even _use_ it. If he were to try, something might go horribly wrong. If he called Alphonse here, then _he’d_ feel obligated to use it to save Havoc’s life. Al would blame himself if he couldn’t, and he’d _also_ blame himself if he used the stone at all. Because Maes knew what they were made of, and he knew both Al and Ed never wanted to have to use one.

Maybe… maybe if they got Havoc to a hospital on time, then they’d be able to save him?

Maes, still undecided, looked back down at the stone in his hand, just in time to see it begin crackling with that same red energy he’d seen Lust use to heal herself.

Oh, _damn._

He hadn’t thought of that, but in hindsight, he should have. If she had the power to heal herself of any wound, why shouldn’t she be able to regenerate from scratch? After all, Maes had been right. The only vital part of her the stone at her center.

Maes watched in horror as Lust began to reform around his hand. He almost pulled away, the sight of the fury in her newly restored eyes enough to send chills down his spine…. but then he realized.

 _The only vital part of her was the stone at her center_.

If he could destroy it, somehow, then he would destroy _her._

Not for the first time, Maes wished he knew alchemy. He had no doubt he would’ve known what to do if he did. But, at the end of the day, all Maes had was his wits and his weapons. And he doubted that would do much here.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. What was it he had called it, earlier? _A glorified rock._

As she reformed around the stone, he kept his hand closed around it, and _squeezed._ If he could crack it, chip it even, maybe it would weaken her that much more.

To his pleasant surprise, her expression contorted in what could almost be described as pain. He didn’t have much time to dwell on the sensation, however.

The moment her hands reformed, she stabbed two of her sharp fingers through his side.

The resulting pain was so violent and _searing_ that Maes felt as if he’d been burnt. Which of course, only succeeded in making him angrier. Everything in him seemed to scream at him to _run,_ to get away, but he didn’t listen. He held his ground, and Lust seemed unsure what to do. If she were to pull out her fingers herself, then his fall to the ground would take her stone with it, as he still refused to let go. She’d reform again, sure, but maybe she didn’t want to be in pain, either.

No matter how hard he pressed, though, the stone remained intact. So, Maes resolved to try something. Even if it was suicide.

Maes Hughes always kept spare throwing knives in his sleeves. In one swift movement, he released the stone just long enough to have the knife in his hand. Then he stabbed it directly into the shiny, red surface.

Lust shrieked, though whether it was in pain or rage, Maes would never know. She tugged her hand away from him, and he fell on the ground, jarring his injury and sending another jolt of pain through him.

When he looked back up at Lust, she was staring down at him, eyes wild. The wound, to his dismay, had healed, though he couldn’t see the knife he’d used on the floor. Had she confiscated it?

“Enjoy bleeding out,” she practically spat in his direction. “It’s a pity; you could’ve had a fast death, but now you can _suffer,_ just like he will. And it’s because of _you_.”

Maes, of course, assumed she was talking about Havoc. He wouldn’t find out until much later that… she wasn’t. That she had fully intended to punish someone else entirely for his actions.

The second she was out of the room, though, Havoc was all he could focus on.

“Havoc,” he hissed, voice coming out between gasps of pain. “Hey, Havoc. Come on, stay with me. _Havoc._ I can’t lose you, too.” _Roy would kill me if I let you die._

But there was no answer. Maes pressed a hand to his own wound, cringing in pain at the pressure. It was the only hope he had of stopping the bleeding, he just had to hope that Hawkeye would hear the shots and get there in time. Or else… that she’d have the sense to take Alphonse and leave the two of them behind.

* * *

Riza whirled to see that the woman who had just come in behind them, her expression set with what she could already see was a barely contained rage, had the Ouroboros tattoo. So, of course, the minute she walked through the door, Riza had a gun pointed at her.

She wished they’d had just a bit more time, though. Riza could see that Alphonse was distressed by the decayed appearance of Barry’s body— she wanted to know what this would mean for him and Edward, too —but she didn’t have time to try and console him. This woman was clearly a threat, and if the shots they’d heard from the other side of the building or the dark splotches of blood on her black dress were any indication, she’d already had a run in with Hughes and Havoc.

Riza’s hands tightened around her gun. She hoped they were all right.

Somehow, she doubted it.

“There you are, Miss Lust.”

Admittedly, Riza did not pay as much attention the conversation between Lust and Barry as she should have, her mind consumed by wondering where that blood must have come from. Wondering what had happened, what this woman— _Lust,_ apparently —had done to them.

All she registered was the use of the word _sacrifice_ when she referred to Alphonse, and she didn’t exactly like the sound of that.

She was effectively shocked out of her thoughts, however, when Lust sliced Barry the Chopper to pieces after he lunged at her with nothing more than her… were those her _fingers_?

So. Definitely a Homunculus, then, and _definitely_ dangerous.

Riza released the safety of her weapon. As much as she wanted to find out what this woman, if she could even be called that, knew, she was also not opposed to the approach of shooting first and asking her questions later. Especially when it came to monsters with regenerative abilities. Even if she shot Lust several times, she’d still be in perfect condition to give them information, right?

Right. Riza stepped subtly in front of Alphonse, ready to fire off a shot without any sort of introductions, but Lust started talking before she could.

“I hate annoying men,” she lamented, then turned to look at Riza. “You’ll understand why I had to take care of the other two, as well. It would’ve been too much trouble to let them live.”

Riza’s blood boiled. _Take care of._ As if murdering people was a bothersome chore, one that couldn’t be easily avoided.

Alphonse made a small, scared noise of protest, but Riza didn’t take her eyes off of the enemy. She forced herself to keep her composure, even as Lust grinned at her.

“Well then, Miss Lieutenant! I’ve heard quite a lot about you,” Lust said.“You’re the one that the Flame Colonel was so infatuated with, right? Now _he_ was a handsome man. Can’t imagine what he saw in _you_. He would’ve been worth keeping alive, though, much like your armored friend here.” She gestured at Alphonse, who straightened. “I’m sorry he had to meet the fate he did.” The smile remained on her face, clearly not sorry at all.

 _Stay calm._ “Me too,” Riza said, keeping her voice forcibly light, as if they were having a conversation about the weather. She’d had time since the Colonel died, she could keep a level head even in the face of taunts like this. “I don’t suppose you would know anything else about it?”

Lust sighed dramatically. “All you military grunts are so _boring_ with your ceaseless questions. I didn’t kill him, if that’s all you lot care about. I wish I had! Getting to see him in such agony wasn’t bad, of course, but I still would’ve liked to be able to finish the job. Burnt me half to ash before I could, though. Very quick to commit arson, wasn’t he, your Colonel? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find him attractive, even as he was setting me alight.”

“What are you talking about?” Riza demanded, uncomfortable with even the bits of a story she could piece together with Lust’s words. _Agony? Finishing the job?_

Lust’s eyes gleamed. “I saw him that night, in the Archives,” she told them. “I stabbed him, and that should’ve been the end of it, but he dodged. I only managed to get him in the shoulder before he made his escape. Not that he got far.”

Riza forced down her rage in favor of taking a deep breath in through her nose, then letting it out. If Lust had truly taken down both Hughes and Havoc, then she had to keep her head. She was the only one left, and as much as that terrified her, she again refused to let all they’d accomplished so far be for nothing.

Her efforts didn’t end up mattering, however. To Riza’s complete and utter surprise, Alphonse stormed toward Lust. He clapped his hands together, forming a spear from the floor and pointing it at Lust. Riza gaped.

In all her years of knowing him, she had never seen the boy angry before. But now, though the armored face was incapable to read, his fury was as plain as day, shining in those intense red eyes.

“How _dare_ you?” Alphonse asked, voice sounding just as dangerous as he looked. “You have no right to speak about him that way! You— you had no right to _hurt_ him, to hurt _any of them_! I won’t let you hurt anyone else! I won’t let anyone else die!”

His conviction both surprised Riza further and impressed her, but it was short-lived as she took in the glee in Lust’s face.

“Bold words from someone who’s about to be shredded,” Lust said, and slashed her razor sharp fingers through the air. Before Riza could even comprehend what was happening, several large chunks of metal flew across the room. Glancing back at Alphonse, she could see several sections of armor missing— from his arms, which he’d lifted to block, and even some from his helmet.

That was _it._ No matter how powerful Alphonse may have been, or how indestructible his body made him, this Lust had the means to kill him, as she’d done to Barry, and she clearly was about to. Al was a _child,_ and it was Riza’s job to keep him safe.

And she intended to do so. Even if she’d failed her Colonel, or everyone else as well, _here_ she would not lose. She would not let her feelings get the best of her. She would remain calm, and she would _kill this monster._

Riza stepped in front of Al, putting herself closer to Lust, and gestured for him to get back. She could tell he wanted to protest, to insist that she was more vulnerable than she was, but luckily he seemed to understand that she wouldn’t have tolerated any of it.

“You should stop running your mouth,” Riza said to Lust, a pleasant smile on her own face, now. “Unless you want me to put you in the ground.”

Lust scoffed. “Oh, please. Spare me the empty threats. Your Colonel had a sharp tongue, too, and _he’s_ the one that’s rotting beneath our feet.”

Riza didn’t let her fury show. She wouldn’t give this bitch the satisfaction. Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t use it.

“I did warn you,” she said, simply, before firing as many rounds as her handgun contained.

Bullet after bullet struck the homunculus’ flesh, each one meeting their respective, scattered marks on Lust’s torso and arms. The repeated recoil was nothing; Riza stood her ground, her eyes focused with intensity on her opponent, who was attempting to draw closer even under the heavy fire.

All too quickly, her first gun ran out, and as she pulled the second from her shoulder holster, she saw Lust’s pointed fingers stretching towards her. She braced for impact—

And it never came. Alphonse hastily clapped his hands together and formed a wall between the two of them. With an enraged cry, Lust brought down the wall, although it struck Riza that she didn’t do it as quickly as she had pierced through Al’s armor.

When she could see Lust again, she realized why.

Unlike the other, larger homunculus Riza had faced before, this one did not appear to be healing. A faint red energy seemed to sizzle around Lust every few moments, but all of the bullets Riza had shot had resulted in visibly bleeding gunshot wounds. They showed no signs of healing.

And Lust looked just as confused by it as Riza felt.

She stared down at the open wounds, the blood, and her face contorted in a strange mixture of confusion and horror.

Riza wouldn’t lie, it was incredibly gratifying to see such an expression on the face of a monster who’d previously been bragging about helping kill Colonel Mustang.

“What...” Lust began, though she trailed off as she pressed her now normal fingers to the bullet that had lodged in her side. She stared at the blood that coated the hand, but the injury still did not heal. She looked back up at Riza and Alphonse, her eyes wild. “This is _impossible_ ,” she hissed. “What did you _do_ to me?!”

Riza… didn’t really know the answer to that. She was just as bewildered by this turn of events as Lust was, but it was working in their favor, so she wasn’t about to stop to find out.

She glanced back down at Lust’s right arm, which was covered in blood both from trying to heal her injuries and the bullet that had struck it, just in time to see a patch of Lust’s skin fracture, then crumble to dust before her eyes.

That was all the confirmation that Riza needed to keep shooting.

As she fired again and again at the homunculus, more of Lust’s form crumbled away, first turning gray and then to dust. It wasn’t long before she had used up all her ammo in the second gun as well, and even though she took out her third, it didn’t seem like Lust would be able to put up much more of a fight.

Lust’s fingers, though she seemed to be trying to get them to sharpen again, kept crumbling each time she elongated them. And she was swaying, unsteady on her feet.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye?” Al asked, voice unsure. Riza highly doubted someone as peaceful as Alphonse could be enjoying this as much as she was, and she felt bad that he had been forced to watch her end this miserable creature’s life.

Not bad enough to show Lust mercy, though.

Riza glanced back at him, only to see that he was pointing at the homunculus, at where the tattooed skin of her chest was crumbling away to reveal a red stone with a faint glow that fizzled in and out, looking as weak as the monster it belonged to.

And stuck within the stone, creating a crack in it that Riza could see even from where she stood some distance away, was one of Maes Hughes’ signature throwing knives.

Riza felt a rush of pride in her chest, but even seeing this, she refused to let her guard down. Lust wasn’t dead yet.

But… but if Hughes had been able to damage what was no doubt a Philosopher’s Stone, what appeared to be Lust’s source of power, and thereby prevent her from regenerating… then they _could_ kill these things. They could kill all of them.

Lust stared down at the knife, her eyes wide and full of disbelief. “ _Impossible_ ,” she said again, furious. “I refuse to be brought down by something so trivial, by the likes of _you_! You’re _nothing_!”

Riza could kill her, right here, right now.

She just had to keep shooting until there was nothing left.

So, she did.

“No, you are. Or you will be.”

Each one of the six shots in her third gun, the revolver, seemed to take a painfully long time. Alphonse turned away after the first, as it had caused Lust to cry out in agony. Riza didn’t blame him for not wanting to watch. But she had to do this. She had to end it.

The second shot, finally, brought Lust down. She collapsed to the floor, her blood already starting to form a puddle on the floor around her. Lust had screamed again, but this one choked off into a pained gasp.

The third shot evoked nothing but a jerk of Lust’s body. She blinked, utterly uncomprehending, at the ceiling, still not seeming to grasp what was happening to her. That she could be killed by a pathetic human. Her eyes were a shade of red that matched the blood on the floor, which had splashed onto Riza’s boots.

The fourth shot was an attempt at mercy. Even she was not so cruel as to not want all of this to just be _over_ already. She took no pleasure in taking lives, and even if that weren’t entirely true for this woman, she didn’t want to have to watch her suffer. So Riza shot her in the forehead, directly between her eyes, no possible way it missed her brain. Riza Hawkeye did not miss. By all accounts, Lust should have been killed, with that shot. She was crumbling to pieces, and yet she still didn’t die. Maybe she wasn’t really _alive_ , at least not in a way that Riza could ever understand. Maybe she didn’t have a brain at all. Whatever the case, even after that, she wasn’t dead.

Riza aimed the fifth shot carefully, directly at the stone that she could now see in Lust’s chest. What was perhaps the only vital part of this… this _thing._ It had the desired result. What parts of Lust that hadn’t already disappeared lost their color, and then she crumbled until nothing remained but a puddle of blood on the floor, in the center of which rested the stone, still with the Lieutenant Colonel’s knife stuck deep within it. It had lost its glow, however. Riza knew it was only a matter of seconds until the stone crumbled to nothing, too.

The sixth shot struck the stone before it could, blowing it to pieces. Riza needed the finality of it, the last bullet she had. The knife skittered across the room and came to a rest a few inches in front of Alphonse’s own feet. He turned back to look at the carnage just in time to see the remaining pieces of the Philosopher’s Stone blow away, like it had never existed at all.

Alphonse couldn’t make expressions, but she figured she knew his thoughts anyhow. How horrified he was. It was plain in the way that he stood there, and said nothing.

She was sad that he’d had to witness it, that side of her, the side that hadn’t been brought out since Ishval. Riza Hawkeye, the sniper, the best shot in the entire military. The cold-blooded killer.

But she didn’t regret what she’d done. Not even slightly. The thing that had called itself Lust had helped kill the Colonel, and now she was dead. Simple as that.

“We should go check on the Lieutenant Colonel and Havoc, to make sure that they’re—” _Alive._ “—okay.” She paused. “Are… are _you_ okay?”

Alphonse nodded slowly. “She… she hurt Colonel Mustang,” Alphonse said, though she knew for a fact that when he said he didn’t want to let anyone else die, this probably wasn’t what he’d had in mind either.

“Yes,” Riza agreed, simply. She felt no need to excuse her actions beyond that. She knew she’d acted without remorse, that she probably hadn’t needed to shoot Lust that many times, that the homunculus probably would’ve crumbled on her own eventually, perhaps without being shot by her at all. The Lieutenant Colonel had apparently dealt irreparable damage to her stone before she’d even entered the room, after all. Lust just hadn’t known it.

Riza hadn’t either, and though she could have stopped once she knew how weak the homunculus had become, she hadn’t, and she didn’t care. Riza was fairly sure that if Lust hadn’t crumbled before she’d run out of bullets, she’d just have started throwing punches.

But Alphonse shouldn’t have had to witness—

“I think she deserved it.”

She stared at Alphonse in surprise, this fourteen-year-old child who… she wondered if she had protected at all, by letting him witness _that._ Certainly she hadn’t done enough, if this was his reaction. Her heart would just about break if she watched either of these boys become killers, too. Riza nearly said as much, but he started walking before she could.

“And if she hurt Mr. Hughes or Havoc, too, then I _know_ she did,” he said, with certainty. “Let’s go find them.”

Riza followed him out of the room.

* * *

The last thing Ed wanted, after being in Xerxes to speak with Maria Ross, was too stay away from Central for too long.

Al was still there, obviously, and Winry— who was pretty much the only reason he even ever wanted to be in Resembool these days _anyway_ —as well as Ling. Ed didn’t care what _he_ was up to, but it wasn’t like he wanted to leave his brother and Winry to deal with the idiot on their own.

Hell, he’d only come to Resembool to stop by the grave of Winry’s parents, and after that he fully intended to return to Central as soon as possible, so he could go back to trying to figure out… basically everything.

He wouldn’t be able to learn how he and Al would get their bodies back or if Scar had killed Mustang if he was in his hometown, strolling down memory lane.

Ed didn’t care much for the memories this place brought him, anyways. At least, not most of them. And certainly not those tied to his father, or as Ed preferred to think of him, Hohenheim. Ed never _saw_ the guy, so he figured he was justified in thinking Hohenheim undeserving of that title.

Though, of course, he turned up at the cemetery at the exact same time Ed happened to be going there. Even though he hadn’t made an appearance in Resembool or anywhere near Ed in _years_ , even though he hadn’t bothered to show up to his wife’s _funeral_ , there he was.

Because Ed’s luck had turned just _that_ shitty as of latem apparently.

He almost kept walking, even after Hohenheim turned to look at him and they made very obvious eye contact as the only two people anywhere in the vicinity. The last thing Ed wanted to do, after _everything_ that had happened, was to stand there and talk to this man who hadn’t been present for the overwhelming majority of his childhood.

It struck Ed as ironic that the world would choose to toss Hohenheim back in his lap _now_. His absent father, who Ed had spent so many days as a child wishing for a swift return. A wish that disappeared when his mother had died, and still Hohenheim hadn’t bothered to show his face. Were they supposed to reconcile? Play catch-up? Make up for lost time?

Ed didn’t want _any_ of that. It was all too little, too late, and he’d given up on the idea that he and his father would ever be close ages ago. He just… he’d rather have Mustang back, honestly.

Roy Mustang had been there for Al and him, when they were kids, and he’d continued to be there for them until he literally _died_ for it. This, meeting Hohenheim by chance in Resembool, felt in some twisted way like the universe trying to make up for what it had taken from him.

Ed wasn’t interested. As far as he was concerned, the role Roy had played in his life could not be replaced.

But… he still decided to stay and hear Hohenheim out. For whatever the reason. And he wound up staying in Resembool far longer because of it.

Hohenheim was just as cold as Ed had always remembered, though. Practically frigid, in everything he said and the way he peered down his nose at Edward like instead of his _child,_ Ed was a stubborn pebble stuck in his boot.

Roy Mustang had been a lot of things, especially a bastard, but he’d never made Ed feel so entirely unwanted, abandoned, _alone._ He’d given Ed and Al a purpose. He’d stuck by them, even when they’d caused him no small amount of trouble.

And, as the Flame Alchemist, he’d certainly never been cold. Though he might have tried on numerous occasions to keep his feelings under professional lock and key, the man had never been as good at hiding them as he thought.

Ed… really missed him. More than he’d ever missed Hohenheim.

He wanted to say as much, scream it in his father’s face, but… it just wasn’t worth his time. Hohenheim wouldn’t care, and Ed refused to share something so personal with this… this _stranger._

After all, Roy had been such an integral part of his life the past several years. Hohenheim hadn’t come close. How could he miss someone he’d never really known?

In that moment, Ed thought that Roy was far more deserving of the word ‘father’ than Hohenheim ever had been. Not that he’d ever have admitted that to Mustang, though.

...Not that he even had the chance, anymore.

* * *

The edges of Maes’ vision had started to go dark by the time he heard footsteps entering the room. Whether it was Lust or some other equally terrifying… _thing_ , he didn’t have the energy to stand up to continue to fight.

He’d lost far too much blood already, and his consciousness was beginning to slip through his fingers. Havoc hadn’t answered any of his promptings, and Maes couldn’t physically reach him like this, so he’d been forced to lie there and do nothing as they both bled out. Maes’ only hope to outlive any other threat was that they mistake him for dead already. Or… that they take pity on him and elect to give him a swift end.

Maes couldn’t even bring himself to turn toward the door when he heard who or whatever it was stall outside, or when he heard two very different but _very_ muffled voices speaking. Were they talking to him? To each other? Whatever the case, they were speaking _far_ to loud for his liking, and yet he still could only hear them as if they were shouting from the other end of a long tunnel.

His eyes began to slip closed, but they snapped open again as a soft hand slapped him lightly across the face.

The first thought that made its way through the fog in his mind was that the hand… didn’t belong to a homunculus. The fingers weren’t pointed, for starters— though Maes didn’t know if they could _all_ do that, or he was just terribly unlucky —and the hand was warm.

He distinctly remembered that as he felt Lust’s fingers pierce his side, they had been ice cold. Like metal. It made sense, in a way. The homunculi were manufactured and, no matter what Lust had insisted, _not human._

Maes blinked, eyes meeting those of Riza Hawkeye— a familiar, warm brown —who appeared to be hovering above him, her brow creased with concern. Her mouth was moving, and this time, Maes could just barely make out the words.

“Sir,” she said, and the fear in her voice surprised him. He and Riza had never been especially close, until… well, until recent circumstances made them so. “Sir, we have to get you out of here. I’ve sent Alphonse to call for an ambulance, all right? For you and Havoc. You’re going to be just fine.”

She sounded remarkably convinced, and Maes actually found himself believing her. Neither of them were stupid or overly dramatic; they were soldiers, and they knew the wound he’d sustained was easily survivable. He’d lost a lot of blood, and he might be off duty for a time, but he’d live as long as got medical attention quickly.

Havoc, on the other hand… well, maybe he was the one Hawkeye was really worried for. He couldn’t get a good look at the state the Second Lieutenant was in now, but he figured one of the biggest reasons Hawkeye had sent Al for help was so that he didn’t have to look at all the blood.

“Are you…. you two all right?” Maes asked her, in between heavy breaths.

She rolled her eyes. “I swear, you’re just like him.” They both knew who she was talking about without her having to say it. “Alphonse and I are _fine_ , please worry about yourself.”

“And… Lust?”

A shadow passed over her face. For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t answer, and that if she did, he wouldn’t want to hear it. Then, “I killed her.”

Maes could hardly believe it. “You… you killed—” He didn’t have the strength to get the whole phrase out, and he broke off with a fit of coughing that brought the taste of blood to his mouth.

Hawkeye nodded once. Sharp. Clinical. As always. She… didn’t look very proud of herself.

It was important to Maes that she understand. “G-Good,” he began, then coughed again as he tried to continue.

Hawkeye’s eyes widened, more of that unusual panic seeping in. “Don’t strain yourself, sir! You’re badly injured, save your—”

“ _No_ ,” Maes insisted, with feeling, trying to convey how urgently he needed to say this. “You… you killed her. You— don’t you s-see? We... _did_ it.” Then, because it still didn’t feel real, he said it again. This time just barely a whisper. “ _We did it._ ”

Hawkeye was clearly bewildered. “Sir?”

“We can… we can _do_ this,” Maes continued. “We… you took down one of th-them, we can do m- _more_.” He smiled, as his eyes began to slide shut again. “We can... avenge him. We’re str-strong enough.”

He didn’t see Hawkeye’s expression in response to that, because he was already falling unconscious, but when he woke up in the hospital, she would tell him that she had smiled back.

They had one success under their belt, one more step taken down the road to the revenge they were both set on, and they were both eager for more.


	2. hate the sinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Roy is really just not having a very good time, but at least things are looking up elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the wait, but no matter how slow-going it can get at times, I'm not giving up on this AU until it's finished! A lot has been happening this past month, so it took a bit longer than I hoped it would, but I'm really excited to get this chapter out to you guys nonetheless! As promised, this update is a bit more specific to my AU, since all the changes I'm making have necessitated a lot of scenes that don't happen at all in the show (though I'll always be following the events of the show broadly). 
> 
> It was very, very fun to write, and I'm really excited to see what you think! So without further ado, I hope you enjoy! Please let me know your thoughts in the comments below!

To say that Envy was pissed would be a gross understatement, and the fact that _Wrath_ , out of everyone, didn’t seem the least bit bothered only succeeded in making them more angry.

“I don’t understand,” they said, for what felt like the millionth time. “Those morons actually managed to kill Lust. _Why_ shouldn’t we return the favor, before they cause even more problems?”

“Kill… Lust?” Gluttony echoed, voice full of sorrow. Envy ignored it.

“It’s still not too late to track down and kill all four of them, you know,” they continued. “If you won’t, I’ll do it myself.”

“Think before you act like a fool,” Wrath said, and Envy bristled. “They bested Lust, even with her ultimate spear. Do not underestimate them just because they are human. All four make formidable opponents.”

“Two of them are in the hospital!” Envy pointed out. “That Hughes guy and the Second Lieutenant; they’re hardly formidable right now. Besides, I’d like to see them put up a fight against _this_.” With a flash of red light, Envy transformed into the spitting image of Roy Mustang. A grin spread over their face as they admired their handiwork. “I could finish them all off in minutes.”

“Just because you _can_ do something doesn’t always mean it is wise,” Wrath said, and Envy was about ready to throttle him.

“Enough of your cryptic little sayings,” Envy snapped. “You could’ve cut them down where they stood right then and there. Why _didn’t_ you?”

“You know as well as I do that Alphonse Elric is extremely viable for sacrifice.”

Envy huffed, and shifted back into their usual form. “Okay, so, kill the other three, then! I’m not picky! Hughes and the sniper were the two that got Lust anyways, right?”

“Tell me, Envy,” Wrath began, voice edging toward dangerous. “How many people would you kill, if you could simply call upon the military to cover it up whenever you pleased?”

“Is that a trick question?” Envy asked, glancing at Gluttony. “ _All_ of them? What’s the point of you even being the Fuhrer if you’re refusing to help us? Lust’s _dead,_ we’re owed some revenge.”

“Revenge.” Wrath’s voice was practically dripping with distaste. “You sound like a human. It’s revenge for Colonel Mustang that those people want, and that got us in this mess in the first place.”

“It’s not _my_ problem they’re too stupid to realize he’s not actually dead,” Envy said. They refused to sound defensive. “And fine, if you’re so against killing them, let’s just lock them all up together, like one big happy family.”

Wrath scoffed. “Please. With the exception of Alphonse, none of them are of any worth to us.”

“So _why_ don’t we _kill_ them?!”

“If high-ranking military officers keep turning up dead and we keep framing others for it, it will draw more suspicion than we want, believe me,” Wrath said. “They know some things now, but not nearly as much as Roy Mustang, and certainly not enough to warrant their deaths or imprisonment. Besides, without him to back them up, they’re largely harmless.”

“Harmless?!” Envy couldn’t believe their ears. “They. Killed. Lust. And you _just_ told me not to underestimate them! Have you lost your—?!”

“Quiet, Envy,” Wrath cut them off. “There are other ways of silencing people besides killing them. If all else fails, we can always use our biggest bargaining chip. I’m sure they’d all stay in line for their precious Colonel.”

“You were the one that insisted none of them know he’s alive, lest his team come to… to _storm the castle._ ” Envy was about to lose their mind in the face of all Wrath’s hypocrisy.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Wrath conceded. “That will be something of a last resort. Let me handle it. They all have plenty of other people they couldn’t bear to lose.”

“Just like _we_ couldn’t bear to lose _Lust_ ,” Envy muttered under their breath.

This earned a sigh from Wrath. “If you’re so pressed about it, and so eager to hurt someone, feel free to take your aggression out on our prisoner rather than _me_ , because I simply do not have the patience for it.”

Envy brightened, but it still didn’t make sense to them. “You told me I wasn’t allowed to kill him until after he’d been used as a sacrifice, though.”

“He must be kept alive, not necessarily in one piece. Physically or mentally,” Wrath said, and then continued down the stairs. Without looking over his shoulder or saying another word, he waved back at Envy.

And just like that they were grinning again, this time something almost feral in it. “You know what? I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

* * *

Ed had fully intended to tell his brother everything the moment he got back, but it turned out Al had been through just as much… if not _more_.

The first order of business, anyhow, was to kick Ling and his guard out— the two of them were eating a casual dinner in his and Al’s quarters when he walked in, as if they owned the place, so Ed threw them into the hall. Promptly.

Ed’s story about the thing they transmuted that decidedly wasn’t their mother could wait, then, because Al looked… well, he looked wrecked. And Winry was clearly incredibly concerned about the both of them. Ed didn’t exactly blame her.

“Al,” Ed began the moment Ling and his guard were out of the room, his concern overwhelming. “What _happened_? Your armor…”

He trailed off, unsure what to say. The state of Al’s body was… obviously not ideal, but the fact that his brother was existing in the form of a pretty heavy-duty set of armor meant that Ed wasn’t supposed to _have_ to worry about stuff like this, though he did anyway. Al didn’t exactly have any vital organs, unless you counted the seal on the inside of his armor.

Ed hadn’t even been _gone_ for that long, and he’d been concerned for Al in a general sense, but this came as a complete shock to him, and he knew he’d be reluctant to leave his brother alone ever again. Ed would much rather his metal arm be destroyed like it was when they defended Mustang against Scar and endure Winry yelling at him than whatever _this_ was.

“It’s not that bad,” Al said quickly, though it clearly was. “I… I went to the third laboratory with Mr. Hughes. who was following a lead, and—”

“You _what_?!” Ed could hardly contain his anger. _Just_ when he’d thought that maybe they could actually work with Hughes again, his actions had nearly gotten Al killed. “Al, what were you thinking? You _know_ we can’t trust him—”

“No, brother,” Al interrupted, voice calm but with an unfamiliar edge to it. “ _You_ don’t _think_ we can trust him. I was upset with him, sure, but I never stopped trusting him, not really. Not when he’s one of very few people we know for sure is still on our side.”

“If he were on our side, he wouldn’t have lied to us,” Ed snapped. “Or roped you into whatever’s left you looking like _this_. I can’t believe he would put you in so much danger—”

“I put myself in danger,” Al said, actually starting to sound irritated now. “I volunteered to go with them. They were chasing Barry the Chopper and his body to the third laboratory— yeah, I know, I’ll get to that later —and I asked to join them. To help them. Mr. Hughes told me it would be dangerous, and I was going to go whether he let me or not.”

Ed shook his head, bewildered. “But _why_?”

“We can’t do this alone, brother,” Al told him. “It’s like I said, we _know_ they’re on our side, and we can help them. They’ll help us, too, if we just let them.”

“We let Mustang help us,” Ed shot back, though he knew it was a low blow. “And look where that landed _him_. And now you’re hurt, too!”

“I can’t _get_ hurt, brother,” Al said, voice softer now. “You can fix my armor in no time, it’s not like an actual injury.”

“I don’t _care!_ ” Ed was shouting now, and he abruptly realized that some time after this discussion started, Winry had followed Ling and his guard out of the room. He was glad for it, and pressed on. “You still could’ve _died_ , and I can’t lose you, too!”

Al took a step towards him. “Brother...”

“No!” Ed took a step back. “Why would you put yourself in danger like that without me there? Why wouldn’t you _tell_ me? Something terrible could’ve happened to you, and I wouldn’t have known! _Again_!” Ed took a shaky breath in. “And if you want me to trust Hughes, this is the wrong way to go about it, because this—” he gestured at Al’s armor again “—happened under _his_ watch. Why isn’t he here now? Did he get tired of ‘helping’ you, or did he just not want to be around when I got back?”

“ _Brother_ ,” Al said again. “Mr. Hughes is in the hospital.”

Ed’s stomach dropped. “Wh… what?”

“If you’d let me actually explain what happened, you would’ve known that already,” Al continued, faintly scolding. “The homunculus we fought there… she called herself Lust, I think you met her at the fifth laboratory. Her fingers were as sharp as knives. We split up, so I was with the Lieutenant— who managed to defeat her —but Mr. Hughes and Havoc were found by Lust first. They both were pretty seriously injured, but… they’ll be okay. I don’t know if they’ve woken up yet, though. I came back here to wait for you.”

Ed sank onto the couch. Not just Al, he could’ve lost the Lieutenant, Havoc, and… and Hughes. Even if the guy had betrayed Ed’s trust, he didn’t want him to _die._

He didn’t want anyone else to die.

“They’ll... they’ll be okay?” was all Ed could manage to get out, even if Al had already said they would. Al nodded, and Ed tried his best to feel relieved. But he was too full of regret.

If Hughes had died, then Ed’s last conversation with him would’ve been a fight. His last words to him would’ve been cruel.

Just like they were with Roy.

“That’s why we have to work together,” Al said, and Ed couldn’t tell if he’d accidentally spoken aloud or if his brother just knew him that well. “If we help each other, _protect_ each other, then we won’t lose anyone else. We took down a homunculus today, brother! Or… Lieutenant Hawkeye did, but… we _can_ do this. We can find out what happened to the Colonel, we can get our bodies back. It’s like I said. We just can’t do it alone.”

Ed ran an agitated hand through his hair, the stubbornness and anger he’d held onto for so long now beginning to ease up, like a weight off his shoulders. “You’re right.”

“I know,” Al said, not unkindly. “You should go visit Mr. Hughes.”

“I know,” Ed echoed. “I really do owe him an apology, huh?” _At least it won’t be too late, this time around._ Ed decided right then and there that he wouldn’t make that mistake again. He was done pushing people away. Keeping those he cared about at arm’s length wouldn’t save them, he’d learned that the hard way. So, he’d just have to be there to keep them safe himself.

“He owes you one, too,” Al said, snapping Ed out of his thoughts. “For what it’s worth, brother, he doesn’t actually blame you for what happened to the Colonel. And I don’t think you blame him either. After all, it’s not either of your faults.”

Ed didn’t miss the not-so-subtle message in Al’s words— _stop blaming yourself._

If only it were that easy, to convince himself that all this wasn’t his fault.

If only it were true.

“Go talk to him,” Al continued. He put an armored hand on Ed’s shoulder, and not for the first time, Ed really missed the hugs Al would give when they were little. When they were both whole. “He probably knows more about how you’re feeling than you’d think. After all, he cared about the Colonel, too. And you’re both still dealing with that loss. You can’t keep everything bottled up forever.”

Ed wanted to argue that he most certainly could, and that if he couldn’t he’d still at least _try_ , but he knew Al was right. Al was pretty much always right about these things, as much as Ed hated to admit it. So, he’d talk to Hughes. Make amends. Work together to bring justice, or peace, or… vengeance. Whatever. He did want to, even if he knew it would be hard. But first…

“Let’s get you fixed up, Al. And then I have some stuff I should tell you, too.”

* * *

Roy knew it probably wasn’t a good sign that he had almost started to look _forward_ to the visits he got from Marcoh, Envy, or the other homunculi. At least they were _something_.

Marcoh had been moved to a different room since Roy didn’t need constant treatment anymore. His shoulder wound had healed, but there were still precautionary bandages around his stomach, and whenever he moved to quickly the pull on his stitches sent a jolt of pain through him.

His leg, as well, seemed much better— _finally_ —though it was still in that damned cast. According to Marcoh, though Roy could put weight on it, the bone was still fragile. Whatever that meant. If he’d been in the outside world and had access to actual decent medical supplies it would’ve been replaced with some sort of brace, but as things stood, Marcoh was reluctant to remove the cast. Despite how eager Roy was to have it gone.

And though Roy didn’t particularly _enjoy_ Marcoh’s company, it was better than being alone. Pretty much anything was better than being alone in that cold, dark room.

So when the door to his makeshift prison opened, Roy immediately sat up straighter— and winced at the subsequent tug on his injury. Still, whether this was Marcoh or one of the homunculi, at least something was _happening._

Roy had been kept prisoner long enough to have a general idea of what he should expect when the door to the small, featureless room they now kept him in opened. Marcoh, usually, but Lust and Envy also made semi-frequent appearances. The one called Gluttony had shown up with Lust, once, and asked if he could _eat_ Roy, so he figured the familiar faces were probably best. At least he knew what to expect from Lust and Envy— taunts and emotional torture, respectively. God forbid another homunculus show up and suggest they… _melt_ off Roy’s skin, or something equally horrific.

…Not that it wouldn’t have been fitting, though, considering Roy’s own history with fire.

Regardless. Roy certainly didn’t expect to see his best friend, Maes Hughes, standing in the doorway.

“Roy!” he exclaimed immediately, with one of his grins that always had Roy struggling to hide a smile himself. “Thank goodness I’ve found you, I— it’s so _good_ to see you again.”

A joy such that he hadn’t felt in months overtook him immediately, but was just as quickly snuffed out by suspicion.

And rage.

Because for every bit this person looked like Hughes— _smi_ _led_ like him, even —Roy knew that it was most likely too good to be true. He hadn’t forgotten about Envy taking on the appearance of not only Riza, but Edward as well. With Ed, they’d even pulled the same trick as they were right now— the kid had been supposedly injured, which _had_ served to distract him then. Roy refused to let it do so now.

Honestly, if he _ever_ got out of this, Roy didn’t know how he would ever begin to trust the faces of his friends— his _family_ —again. And that hurt worse than any physical blow Envy could have dealt.

Though his suspicion was swift to follow his elation in being swept under the rug, at least for a moment, because all other concerns fell away the moment the man who for all intents and purposes _appeared_ to be Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes moved the hand that had been pressed firmly against his side. He stumbled, slightly, and caught himself on the doorframe for balance.

Roy followed the gesture and noted, with no small amount of alarm, the red that had already smeared on the stone surface. His gaze darted down to supposedly-Maes’ side and— yes, he was bleeding. Bleeding a _lot_. Even if this wasn’t Hughes, Roy couldn’t deny that the mere sight still filled him with dread of the variety he hadn’t felt even when Envy had attempted to crush his lungs beneath their foot.

He steeled himself, though. Drew the anger and skepticism back in with one well placed deep breath. Because this _wasn’t_ Hughes, and he wouldn’t give Envy the satisfaction of fooling him with a cheap trick like this again.

“What do you want this time?” Roy demanded, and was proud of how steady his voice sounded.

The impostor’s eyebrows drew together in what was, admittedly, a very convincing display of concern. Not convincing enough, however. “Roy, what— I’m here to rescue you, of course.”

“Of course,” Roy agreed. “Except that the real Maes Hughes doesn’t know I’m alive, and therefore would have no reason to believe I needed rescue. He also wouldn’t have been stupid enough to come alone.”

“I’m not alone,” the fake Hughes said, having the audacity to look confused.

“Then where’s everyone else, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Holding the other homunculi off,” fake Hughes replied immediately, and though Roy felt it was unnecessary to bring up the very clear lack of noise in the… _wherever_ they were, apart from the two of them, he almost did anyway. The fake continued before he could. “Come on, we need to get you out of here.” Fake Hughes took a step forward, then swayed a little on his feet, pressing his blood covered hand back to his side and grimacing in pain.

Roy sprang to his feet, ready to rush to his best friend’s side… then mentally cursed himself for doing so. He _knew_ it wasn’t Hughes, it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. It was simply impossible, and Envy had pulled the same stunt too many times already for it to ever be effective again.

But still, watching even someone who looked like his best friend bleed out… was far from ideal, in Roy’s book.

He didn’t go over to the fake, though, which wasn’t as hard as it may have been if Roy was at full strength himself. The homunculi gave him only the bare minimum of food and water to keep him alive, and though he had a cot to sleep on, Roy didn’t feel very comfortable about shutting his eyes for too long. He’d stood up so fast that his vision had gone blurry for several seconds, and Roy also had to place a hand on the wall to keep himself from immediately toppling back over.

Fake Hughes’ concerned expression deepened. Roy still didn’t buy it. “Are you okay?”

Roy considered this. “An interesting question coming from you, who should know that I’m very much not. Are _you_ okay, Envy? Do you have to actually injure yourself to get that much blood, or can you just add it in as part of your disguise?”

“Envy?” Fake Hughes shook his head. “Roy, it’s _me_ —”

“No, it’s _not_ ,” Roy snapped. “You’re not Hughes. How stupid do you think I am, Envy? I’m not going to fall for one of your tricks again. So either change back and tell me what it is you _really_ want— assuming you’re not just here to torment me —or _fuck. Off_. I’m really not in the mood.”

There was a beat of silence, in which Roy was sure Envy would reveal themselves and rain down a series of well places kicks to his ribcage.

However, all the fake said was, “Roy… what did they _do_ to you?”

“You already know that, _homunculus_ ,” Roy said, with more conviction than he truly felt. He knew it wasn’t his best friend. He _knew_ that, all right? But… Envy had clearly taken up his advice and worked more on their acting skills.

Every detail about the figure standing in the doorway screamed Maes Hughes. The way he he held himself; hunched slightly from the pain but one hand still drawn just slightly within his sleeve, ready to draw a knife at the smallest sign of trouble. The concern written all over his face, but the smile that persisted anyhow. Even the way he spoke…

But it _wasn’t_. Envy’s Fullmetal disguise had been convincing enough at first, but the fact was that all of Roy’s friends thought him dead. They had no reason to show up here. And from what the homunculus had said to him in the past, it was perfectly reasonable that Envy had kept a close enough eye on Hughes to allow them to mimic his mannerisms.

Still, on some deeper level, Roy just _knew_ , the way he had with Ed. Not at first, no, but he’d had more reason to be on his guard for this sort of trick since then, and while Envy hadn’t used Hughes yet, they’d certainly been clear about wanting to. Besides Roy had known Hughes much longer than he’d known the Elrics, and there was just… something in those green eyes behind askew glasses that rang false. That wasn’t his best friend. A little less light in them, perhaps, or the way they didn’t seem to connect with the smile Hughes wore, one of his signature beams that seemed like a ray of sun on even the darkest of Roy’s days.

Now… now it just made him feel a bit cold. And angry. How dare this monster use his best friend’s face to torture him? How _dare_ Envy make him witness Hughes hurt?

He wanted to voice these beliefs, but before he could, the imposter stumbled and fell forward.

And Roy knew it wasn’t Hughes. He was almost _positive_ , now.

But he caught him anyway. He didn’t even have to think about it. Because _almost_ wasn’t a certainty, was it? And even if it had been, there were some things in the world it was impossible to hold back from, Roy figured. Fake or not, Roy couldn’t stomach the idea of letting someone who even just _looked_ like Hughes collapse onto the ground, bleeding.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” the imposter said, his breaths slowly becoming heavy gasps. “Seems like… well, my injury’s a… bit more dr-drastic that I had realized.”

The fake Hughes coughed, and blood began to drip from the corner of his mouth.

Roy forced down his panic, repeating the mantra he knew to be true over and over again in his head. _It’s not Hughes. It’s not real._ But… Envy had been right, as it turned out, when they said they could make Roy watch his loved ones die as many times as they wanted. Even if he was aware that he was being tricked… that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“You and I both know that you can heal in an instant, Envy,” Roy said, his voice tight. “Really, this whole charade is getting a little old.”

He didn’t let go, though. Couldn’t quite bring himself to.

“Roy… I don’t know what h-happened that made you stop trusting me,” Hughes began, his voice barely a whisper now, the blood making it hard for him talk. “But it’s okay. I… I forgive you. Just promise me… promise me you’ll get out of here? For m-me?”

And Roy… Roy had no idea what to do with that.

It did sound like something Hughes would say, just the sort of sentimental bullshit he’d choose to spout in his last moments. Wasn’t that always what Hughes did when Roy closed himself off, like he was doing now? And sure, Hughes didn’t know Roy was alive according to the homunculi, but… if he _had_ found out, Roy knew better than anyone how likely his best friend was to rush in without a plan when someone he cared about was in danger.

They were very similar, that way.

Roy didn’t want to believe it, though, because at this rate… at this rate, the imposter was _badly_ injured, and if it wasn’t an imposter, then it was _Hughes_ bleeding out in his arms.

But even so, could it be… was it even _remotely_ possible that this was really—

A last, stuttering breath left Hughes’ mouth, and then his body— which had been trembling just moments before —went limp.

Roy stopped breathing, too, as every inch of him went cold.

 _No_.

He shook Hughes by the shoulders, but if he’d even expected a response, there was none. No movement, no rise and fall of his chest, no… no heartbeat, as he checked for a pulse.

The light had left those familiar green eyes, that had seemed so unfamiliar just moments before. Hughes’ face had gone slack, void of any emotion. He was _gone_.

“Envy, no more of your little games,” Roy said, his voice absolutely _broken._ “Change… change back.” _Please._

Envy wouldn’t have taken the charade this far, would they? And unless these monsters had the power to stall their own heartbeats as well as heal remarkably fast, Roy was holding a corpse.

He was holding his best friend, who Roy had just allowed to die without a single word of comfort.

How could he not have trusted Hughes? _Hughes_ , who he’d known since they were both all but children? How could he have been so cruel in his best friend’s final moments? He had come to rescue him, and Roy had just… just let him bleed out without a shred of remorse. He hadn’t even begun to doubt his original assumptions until it was too late.

And Hughes… in the face of Roy’s doubt and distrust, had told Roy that he _forgave him._ That Roy had to escape, because that’s what Hughes had come there for, that was all he cared about. Even though coming to Roy’s rescue had gotten him _killed._ Even though Roy hadn’t said so much as a thank you, let alone a proper goodbye.

He may as well have killed Hughes himself.

The though was enough of a shock to unfreeze him, and Roy realized distantly that he was shaking. Crumbling to pieces in the face of what had just happened. What he had just _let happen._

What the hell had he been thinking?! Even if he’d thought it was Envy, he should have tried to do something for the wound if there was even the slightest possibility it wasn’t! He should’ve tried to get them both out of there, he should’ve said something _just in case_ , he should’ve—

He should’ve.

But he didn’t.

Roy buried his heads in his hands against Maes’ chest, and _sobbed._

He had every intention of remaining there until someone found him, either the reinforcements Hughes had claimed to have come there with, or a homunculus. He didn’t _care_.

But then… he felt a hand come up to rest on the top of his head.

He froze.

Roy still couldn’t hear a heartbeat.

“Aw, don’t cry, _Colonel_.”

And that wasn’t Hughes’ voice. He _knew_ that voice.

Roy jerked up and away, his back colliding with one of the many stone walls trapping him there. He stared, dumbfounded, at the still blood-soaked form of his best friend as Hughes laughed a laugh that wasn’t his own. He could still feel tears streaming down his cheeks as his sorrow gave way to confusion and then, terror. Still, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away, if only because he knew what would come next. They’d done this song and dance before.

A crackle of red light and… yes, he’d been right the first time. That wasn’t Maes.

 _Envy_.

Roy should’ve been relieved. Maes wasn’t dead. But all this revelation brought with it was a dull, hollow ache in his chest. That, and a fury so intense Roy felt as if it might burn him from the inside out.

He’d watched his best friend die. And it… it hadn’t been Maes, not really, but Roy still knew the sight of his lifeless body would haunt him for the rest of his life.

However long he had left, at any rate.

Envy was still laughing, that absolutely infuriating cackle that set Roy’s teeth on edge. “Oh, your _face!_ ” they cried, overjoyed. “You should’ve _seen_ your _face_! It was… well, Colonel, it was really just beautiful. I didn’t know you were capable of such an emotional response! _Tears,_ even! Not so heartless as you would have others believe, are you? You’ve been holding out on me! Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time for encore performances.” They smirked. “Hardly some of my best work, but it didn’t matter, did it? You guessed it was me and seeing him die _still_ tore you to shreds.”

“I am going to _kill_ you, one day,” Roy swore, through gritted teeth. “You despicable, lying piece of—!”

“Don’t blame _me,_ ” Envy said, and had the audacity to sound offended. “I’m simply punishing you for the actions of your friends on the outside, since I’m not allowed to hunt _them_ down myself. Not that it really matters anyway.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Roy demanded, fists clenched at his sides.

Envy just laughed again. “You call me liar, but honestly? What I made you see may as well be the truth. Word on the street is a few members of your old team and the armored alchemist brat ventured into the third laboratory and faced off against Lust. Apparently the Lieutenant Colonel got himself badly injured in the fight, and he wasn’t the only one.”

“You’re _lying_ ,” Roy said, voice practically a snarl. _Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t take the bait_. “It’s all you know how to do.”

“Maybe,” Envy conceded. “But that didn’t stop you from breaking this time around, did it?”

Roy just sat there, continuing to glare up at Envy and silently _fuming_. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of a response, of admitting they were right.

“Anyways, I have proof this time.” Envy tossed Roy something. He caught it purely on instinct, then opened his palm to stare down in mounting horror at… one of Hughes’ throwing knives. With no small amount of blood on it. Envy grinned. “He’s at the hospital now.” Envy paused for a moment, then their eyes sparkled with malice as a new thought occurred to them. “Maybe I should pay _him_ a visit disguised as _you._ ”

“ _I’ll kill you_ ,” Roy said again, and he _meant_ it. He would’ve already set Envy alight if he had his gloves… or honestly, access to any flames at all.

Envy’s eyes glinted. “Oh, I’d just _love_ to see you try.” Another spark of energy, another change, and Riza Hawkeye stood before him, her face twisted in fear. “Please, don’t hurt me Colonel! I’m begging you!”

Roy ignored the way his heart seized in his chest at seeing her so upset, at seeing her at _all._ He knew that wasn’t Riza Hawkeye, he’d _seen_ Envy change this time, and he was no fool. Roy spared a single glance at the door behind Envy… the door they had left open when they came in disguised as Hughes, presumably to make their act more convincing.

It was the opening Roy needed. He wasn’t as precise as Hughes, so he simply tackled the _thing_ disguising itself as his Lieutenant to the floor and plunged the knife into their eye.

Hearing the scream in her voice, seeing the blood on his hands— _not her blood_ , he kept reminding himself —physically pained him. But he got a sick sort of satisfaction from it, too. Because Envy deserved this and more.

Roy didn’t have his flames, however, so this would have to do. For now.

He stood, and was pleased to find that though it hurt to do so, his leg could support his weight. If Envy caught him… well, they couldn’t possibly do anything to hurt him worse than _this._

“My Lieutenant fears nothing,” he told the creature writhing on the floor as it sparked and shifted back, its injury already beginning to heal. “And she definitely doesn’t _beg_.”

And then? Roy Mustang _ran._

* * *

Maes faded in and out of consciousness for a few hours at the hospital, but ultimately his injuries were an easy fix. No major internal organ damage, and though his side still ached, blood loss had been the doctors’ only real concern.

Despite his insistence that he would be _fine_ , the hospital staff had insisted on keeping both him and Havoc in for at least two nights— they’d wound up sharing a room, which Hawkeye said was to make it easier to guard them both. Maes had no idea why the other homunculi hadn’t come after them yet. Lust had claimed that they were, at least in some way, _human_ , though apparently not enough to care about the death of one of their own. The three of them— or two of them, mostly, since Havoc was more out of it than he was —had debated their safety at the hospital for a while, but ultimately Maes didn’t see anywhere else that was much better if the homunculi were truly committed to killing them. So, they remained.

Hawkeye decided to stay the first night as well, sleeping in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs by his bedside.

Gracia and Elicia had stopped by for an hour or so, his daughter teary-eyed and his wife’s expression colder than he’d seen it in a long time. She was angry with him for getting himself hurt; he could tell. Her words were clipped, and she left without much goodbye, only saying that Elicia had school the next morning, and she’d see him at home.

It made Maes’ heart ache, but he still didn’t regret his actions.

They’d destroyed a homunculus, after all. Lust had openly gloated about her hand in Roy’s death, and now she was dead. Maes couldn’t find it in himself to be anything but pleased.

He was, however, surprised to find Edward Elric in his room when he woke up the following morning.

They were the only two people in the room, Havoc having been apparently taken for further examinations of his injury, which had been more extensive than Maes’ own, and Riza was most likely with him. Maes had no idea if it had been either of them to let Edward in, but he was just looking at Maes from the chair he sat in, his arms crossed and a frown on his face.

Maes opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no idea what to say. They hadn’t exactly… parted on the best terms, the last time they saw each other. What would Edward be doing here, unless—

 _Alphonse_.

Maes sat up so quickly that it pain seared through his abdomen, and he pressed a hand to the thick bandages there, wincing.

Ed glanced at the wound, and his eyes narrowed.

Maes hesitated, but he figured one of them would have to break the silence at some point, and he knew Ed well enough to know that he wouldn’t. “Your brother,” he said, quickly. “He’s okay, right? Lieutenant Hawkeye told me he was, but I didn’t get the chance to make sure that—”

“He’s fine.” Ed’s expression remained unreadable, but his voice had an edge to it that Maes was by now growing quite familiar with. “You’re not.”

What? “…No, I suppose not,” Maes agreed, even more confused now than he had been when he woke up to find Edward there in the first place. “But it’s not a big deal. I’ll live.”

“You’d better.”

Maes blinked. Ed looked surprised by his own words, too, and both of them simply stared at each other for a moment. This time Ed broke the silence, with a somewhat frustrated groan as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Look,” Ed began, seeming as if the words physically pained him. “I was… I was really terrible to you, Hughes. I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have—”

“So did I,” Maes interrupted, floored. “Edward, I never should’ve even _suggested_ that you were partially responsible for Roy’s death. He helped you of his own free will, and I’m sure he’d do it again even if we both tried to stop him. The only person I blame for what happened to him is his killer. And, to an extent, myself.”

Ed rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t have blamed you, either. I was… upset, I guess, because I’d just found out, and after you lied to Al and I, I thought that—”

“I never should’ve done that, either. Edward, I’m so, _so_ —”

“I’m trying to apologize to _you,_ you bastard, so would you just shut up and let me already?”

It took Maes a moment to find the words to respond. “Edward, you don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do. I know we _both_ said some really shitty things, I’m not saying you didn’t. And believe me, I’m not… I still wish you hadn’t lied to us, and you’re right that you shouldn’t have done it, but I understand _why_ you did. That doesn’t mean it’s okay, but you just wanted to protect us. Like… like Mustang always did. He would piss me off with how he tried to shelter us from the world, too, and if circumstances were different I’m actually pretty sure he would’ve done the same thing.” Ed sighed. “I… I hit you right after you’d been _shot,_ Lieutenant Colonel.”

It wasn’t really an appropriate time to be amused, but the corners of Maes’ lips twitched upwards anyway. “Well, I understand why you did _that,_ too. Like you said, we both did a lot of things we shouldn’t have.”

For a moment, Ed looked as if he might smile, too. Instead, he continued. “Hawkeye told me how you helped Ross, how it wasn’t her,” he said. “I’m… I’m sorry I doubted you. I’m sorry I stopped trusting you, and I’m sorry I lashed out.”

“Edward, I know you’ve been through a lot, but under all of that hurt you’re still just a _kid,_ ” Maes replied. “A kid who has seen far too much. You shouldn’t have to apologize to me; you’d had far less time to cope with what happened, and even now _I_ still don’t feel as if I’ve had proper time to grieve. You cared about Roy just as much as I did. I should never have taken my anger out on you, and for that, I’m sorry as well.”

Ed sniffed, and Maes realized with a start that he was beginning to tear up. Maes could feel the sting in his own eyes at the sight. “I don’t think he would’ve wanted us to fight.”

“No,” Maes agreed, a lump forming in his throat. “I don’t think he would have.”

“Al scolded me pretty bad,” Ed told him. “He said that more people would just get hurt if we didn’t work together, and he’s right. It… It really hurt me, that you lied to us, because you were one of very few people that I was so _sure_ I could trust.”

Maes knew this already, but it still hurt to hear. “Edward—”

“Let me finish,” Ed said, his voice soft. “I still don’t like it, but… I get it, now, like I said. And I also understand that Al and I _can_ trust you. More than a lot of other people, at least, and so we should help each other. I want to find out what really happened to Mustang, too, and I… I don’t want to lose anyone else. I _can’t_. When Al told me you were in the hospital, I… you could’ve _died_. And I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had, and the last thing I ever said to you was so _cruel._ ”

 _I’ll avenge Mustang myself. I don’t need your help. You’d only hold me back, just like you did with him._ The words had hurt more than Maes would care to admit, but he still didn’t feel like Edward needed to apologize for them.

“I won’t let that happen again,” Ed whispered, and the words sounded like they were more for his own benefit than Maes. “Not _ever_ again.”

 _Oh._ Edward’s last conversation with Roy.

“He knew how much you cared about him, Edward,” Maes said softly. “I promise. And he loved you so much, too. You and your brother brought out the best in him. You know that, don’t you?”

Ed sniffed again, the tears running down his cheeks now. Maes decided not to mention it. “I know,” he said, still quiet. “I just… I just miss him a lot.”

“Me too.” Maes tried for a smile. “But I think he’d be really proud of you, for forgiving me. I don’t even know if he would have done the same in your shoes. He sure was stubborn, our Roy.” The past tense still felt… wrong, but Maes was slowly getting used to it.

Which really just made it even sadder.

“He never would’ve been mad at you in the first place, not really,” Ed told him, and hey, at least the kid seemed to have cheered up, if only a little. “I don’t think he was _ever_ really mad at you, he just pretended to be. I mean, he was your best friend.”

Maes’ heart hurt, but… a little less than usual. “Yeah. Yeah, he was.”

* * *

As it turned out, trying to outrun Envy down endless twisting corridors that Roy had no means of navigating while one of his legs still hurt every time he put weight on it— Scar had done a _number_ on the bone, after all —proved futile.

Roy honestly hadn’t been hoping for much when he’d ran out of the room he’d spent countless days in as a captive, but he’d still had to _try_ , hadn’t he?

In retrospect, maybe he hadn’t, because Envy caught up to him fairly quickly and if Roy had thought he’d succeeded in making them angry _before_ … well. Being physically dragged back to his own prison in this labyrinth of doors that held who knows _what_ behind them really put his situation into perspective.

Still, he’d made it somewhat far. So that was… something.

A small consolation, when the lack of windows made him suspect that he was right about his assumption that they were holding him underground, and he hadn’t managed to figure out any semblance of a layout. So he had no idea how he would even begin to _try_ escaping this place again, and he’d probably never get the chance.

Great.

Well, at least his predicament couldn’t exactly get worse, could it? Roy didn’t really care how Envy chose to punish him for this escape attempt; he refused to react to any more of their transformations. He refused to give them the satisfaction.

The reality of how deeply Roy had screwed up this time didn’t properly hit him until he reached what he was now beginning to think of as is his cell, and Envy bodily tossed him inside like a sack of potatoes.

Roy’s head knocked painfully against the stone floor, and it throbbed when he sat up.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” he asked, because he just couldn’t help himself.

Envy looked more enraged than Roy had ever seen them, but they still only laughed in response. “ _H_ _ardly_ ,” they said, slowly walking towards him. They still looked like Riza, but as they walked closer they began to shift slowly back to their own form. “You’re going to regret that.”

“Go ahead, then,” Roy told them, glaring up at them from the ground in what he hoped was a look of defiance rather than fear. “Do your _worst._ Hurt me if you like, or make yourself look like all of the people I love and hurt yourself. I. Don’t. _Care._ Not anymore. You need me alive, at least for now, and no matter _what_ you do to try and break me, I can guarantee that I will never stop trying to _run_. As far as I’m concerned? You can’t possibly do anything worse than you’ve already done.”

Making him watch Hughes bleed out in his arms. Making him hear Riza scream. Making him feel Edward rush in for a hug, only for it all to be a _lie._ Roy wouldn’t stand for it anymore.

Envy stopped in their tracks, and their expression of fury slowly gave way to one of their signature, too-wide smiles. “Is that so?” they asked, their voice falsely sweet. It sent chills up Roy’s spine. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to test that theory, won’t we?”

Roy scowled. “What do you—?”

Before he could finish his sentence, Envy had closed the last few paces of distance between them, and Roy’s words choked off into a _scream_.

Because Envy lifted one of their strangely heavy feet, and _stomped_ on Roy’s cast with all the strength they could muster. Roy could hear the still not entirely healed bone _crack_.

And then Envy brought their foot down again, laughing like mad as Roy bit down another shout of agony.

And again, and again, and—

Roy could hardly think through the pain, but he felt reasonably sure that the bone was shattered this time. And Envy just kept _going._

When they finally relented, Roy only barely managed to catch the words they spoke in between bouts of maniacal laughter as he blacked out from the pain.

“Just because we have to keep you alive doesn’t mean we need you in one piece,” they spat, still sounding overjoyed. “Good luck _running_ now, Colonel Mustang.”

Roy forced his eyes open, spots swimming in his vision as he glanced from Envy’s grinning face to the bloody mess of the broken cast and what hardly even _looked_ like his leg, now.

And then, he knew nothing more.

* * *

When Maes was finally released from the hospital— still earlier than he’d been advised to leave —it was hard to drive away the thoughts that occupied his mind even after he’d returned home.

The map Sergeant Fuery had shown him… if the Fuhrer was somehow involved in all of this… Maes couldn’t even begin to conceive of what that could mean for Amestris. No matter what, they knew for _certain_ that all of this involved the higher ups, now, which meant they would have to tread more carefully than ever.

And the worst part was that he didn’t even really _want_ to think about all that it could mean, because he was still struggling to wrap his mind around the fact that Havoc _couldn’t_ _walk._

Havoc would never walk again. Because of Maes. He hadn’t even known what to _say_ when he had told them, when he’d said he was going to work with his parents in a general store, when he’d admitted that he was accepting a discharge from the military.

 _“You can’t,” Maes had stammered. “I won’t leave anyone behind, Roy wouldn’t want me to just_ _let you_ —”

 _“_ _Roy is_ gone! _” Havoc had practically exploded. “It doesn’t matter whether he would’ve wanted you to do this without me or not._ _I can’t help you like this, and you_ have _to keep going._ _You have to avenge him._ _If you don’t, then all of this… everything we’ve done so far has been for nothing._ _And I won’t stick around just so I can hold you back.”_

 _And Maes… Maes hadn’t known how to respond. So_ _Hawkeye_ _did._

 _“Do whatever you think is best,” she’d told Havoc. “You’re certainly entitled to time off._ _Thank you for everything so far, but we’re not finished yet._ _I expect you to catch up when all this is over. Or I’m sure the Colonel_ _would_ _be really disappointed in you for giving up.”_

 _Havoc_ _had stared at her, shocked. His voice had been tight when he spoke._ _“_ _Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft.”_

_“Never.”_

_Havoc laughed. “You’ll make a great Fuhrer one day, Hawkeye._ _I know it._ _”_ _  
_

Maes was inclined to agree.

He also knew Roy would’ve been disappointed in _Maes_ , not Havoc. After all, he’d let a member of Roy’s team be terribly injured, and the only lead to someone who could heal such an injury— Doctor Marcoh —had gone cold. And he’d also been the one to let Roy _die_. The whole point of all of this— at least at the start, and it was still the most important part of uncovering this increasingly complex conspiracy to Maes —was to find out who had killed Roy. But everything they’d done to find answers seemed to just end with more pain. Was it only a matter of time before his fixation on revenge hurt all the other people he cared about, too?

Someone cleared their throat, and Maes glanced up to see… oh.

Yes, it really was starting to seem that way.

Gracia stood a few paces ahead of him, in front of one of the couches in their living room. Maes hadn’t even noticed her as he came in, lost in his thoughts as he was.

As he took in the way she’d crossed her arms, the clear irritation on her face, Maes remembered how cold she’d been at the hospital the other day. He’d known she’d be upset that he got injured but this felt like more than that, and he didn’t quite understand it. Was she… _angry_ with him?

Maes couldn’t remember the last time Gracia had been legitimately angry with him.

He tried for a smile, which she didn’t return. His voice was hesitant when he spoke. “Where’s Elicia?” It was a fair question, he thought. He hadn’t seen his daughter in over twenty-four hours, since Gracia had only visited once in the two nights he was at the hospital.

Gracia still seemed annoyed by it, though. “Napping,” she replied shortly, and Maes’ smile faltered.

“That’s a shame. I was hoping I’d be able to see her.”

Gracia seemed to brace herself before she spoke. “And I… I was hoping I could talk to you before she wakes up. In private.”

Maes blinked. “...Okay,” he said carefully, already not liking where this was going. He had no idea what this could be about. A thousand possibilities came to mind, though he dismissed nearly all of them immediately. They were both happy in their marriage, and he knew that, though they’d had some tense moments lately, because of—

Scratch that. He figured he knew exactly what this was about. But he asked anyway.

“What did you want to talk about?”

Gracia’s frown deepened. “You promised me you would be _careful_.”

Maes sighed. He’d still sort of hoped that he was wrong. “Gracia—”

“I just can’t believe you would be so _reckless,_ ” she cut him off, shaking her head. “We’ve talked about this, Maes! It scares me sometimes, how fixated you’ve become on revenge, you’re like an entirely different _person_. And I get it, he was your best friend, but—”

“You _don’t_ get it,” Maes said, making sure to keep his voice calm. “That’s the whole problem. You’re right; we have talked about this, and I thought you understood. I _need_ to know who killed him. I… I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t _think_ without being reminded that he’s _gone._ He was my best friend, Gracia, my brother. I considered him family, too, you know that. And whoever killed him is still _out_ there, and I can’t… I have to find them and bring them to justice.”

“This isn’t _justice,_ ” she snapped. “You’re right, Roy _is_ gone. Nothing you do now is going to change that. Which is why I’m not entirely sure you’re doing this for him anymore.”

Maes felt as if he’d been punched. “What?”

“Wanting answers is one thing, but you’re putting yourself in harm’s way,” Gracia said. “If you keep running into dangerous situations like this, you’re just going to get yourself killed, too! And I know I may not have known Roy as well as you did, but we _both_ know he wouldn’t have wanted that. He wouldn’t have wanted you to run yourself into the ground for this!”

“That doesn’t _matter_!” Maes hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he also couldn’t seem to reign in his anger at her words. “If I have to get hurt in order to solve his murder, then so be it. It’s _worth_ it.”

“No, it’s not!” Gracia yelled back. “How can you not see that?! He’s _dead_ , and I know it hurts, but you’re not, so s _top acting like you are_! You don’t care about your own wellbeing at all, you act as if you’re invincible when you’re _not,_ and you’ve brushed off every attempt I’ve made to get you to stop and realize what you’re doing to yourself. This search for revenge is destroying you, Maes, and I can’t _stand_ it anymore!”

“What would you have me do, then?” Maes demanded. “Do you want me to just forget about Roy? Just… let his killer roam free? Leave this case to go cold?”

“I’m not asking you to forget,” Gracia said, her voice going just a touch softer, though it didn’t lose its frustration. “But maybe… maybe it’s time to move on. Just let it _go,_ and let yourself heal instead of charging headfirst into danger. You always used to lecture Roy for doing that, anyways.”

Maes _seethed_. “Let me remind you that I have a _job_ to do. I’m the Head of Investigations, and it is my responsibility to—”

Gracia stomped her foot. “You have responsibilities _here_ , Maes! To me, to Elicia! You used to always say that we were more important to you than your work, but lately you’re hardly ever home! Elicia needs her father, and _I_ need you, too.”

Maes’ heart clenched in his chest, but he refused to give in. After all… “The night Roy died, I brushed off my responsibilities at work so I could have dinner with you and Elicia.”

Gracia sucked in a sharp breath. “How _dare_ you blame—”

“I’m not _blaming_ you, it’s just the truth,” Maes said. “I wasn’t there when he needed me that night, so finding out what really happened to him is the least I can do. I promise, as soon as this is all over I plan to spend every waking moment with you and Elicia, but for now, this is where I’m needed most. I can’t—”

“I’M _PREGNANT_ , MAES!”

Maes stopped breathing, for just a moment.

Gracia covered her mouth with her hands, clearly regretting the outburst, but she continued when it became clear that he had no idea what to say. “I’m sorry, I— I wanted it to be good news, but you’re never _here,_ ” she said, voice miserable. “I know you’re busy trying to find out who killed Roy, and I thought you would move on after a while, but it’s been months, Maes, and you’re going to get yourself killed like this. You’ve got to _stop_. I need you, Elicia needs you, this _baby_ needs you here at home.”

Maes sank onto the nearest couch, his legs no longer supporting his weight. He was numb with shock. He never would’ve guessed…

“How long have you known?”

“A few weeks now. Maybe a month,” Gracia replied, still sounding upset. She’d moved her hands to place them on her stomach, though there was no visible bump there yet.

A _month._ “You should’ve told me.”

“It never seemed like the right time,” Gracia said softly. “You were so focused on Roy. I didn’t want to distract you from—”

“Gracia,” Maes interrupted, appalled. “Finding out who killed Roy is important to me. But… so are the two of you. _Three_ of you now, I guess.” His laugh surprised both of them.

Gracia’s eyes widened. “You’re…. you’re not mad?”

“You should’ve told me,” Maes repeated. “But how could I be mad, with news like this? You’re _pregnant_.” He clasped both of her hands— still resting on her stomach —in his own. “I’m… I’m over the moon. Another baby.” He laughed again. “I can’t believe it. Elicia will make an excellent older sister.”

“So… will you stop trying to find out who killed Roy?” Gracia asked, her voice careful.

Maes hesitated, but just for a second. “I… no. I’m sorry, but I have to do this. I have to avenge him. And you’re right, it’s partially for myself. But it’s also for Hawkeye, for the Elrics, for Havoc, for _Roy_ , even though he’s gone. I think you knew that already, though.”

Gracia sighed. “Yes, I did. Just… make me a promise?

“Anything,” Maes said. “I’ll be more careful, I swear—”

Gracia shook her head. “You said that before, but you could’ve died from this, Maes,” she said, gesturing at the visible lump of bandages underneath his clothes. “So… promise me that if you ever get badly hurt again, doing this, you’ll stop. You’ll let it go, leave it to Lieutenant Hawkeye and the others. You’ll move on, and you’ll stick to your desk job.”

Maes winced. _I don’t know if I can promise that,_ he thought, but… he had no intention of getting so badly injured again, especially not now that he knew. He did genuinely want to be more careful. And… if he did get hurt, he would cross that bridge when he came to it. “Okay,” he whispered. Gracia nodded. “And… I’ll be here more. I _swear_. For all three of you. I never meant to—”

“I know,” Gracia told him. “It’s okay. I love you, Maes, and I know it’s important that you find answers, but just… just remember that we’re important, too, okay?”

Maes heart _broke._ “As if I could ever forget that. You, Elicia— and this child, too— you’re my entire _world_. I don’t even know where I’d be without you.”

Gracia smiled, and it was small, but Maes still felt as if he’d done something right. “Luckily, you’ll never have to find out.”

Maes smiled back, though it was a sad one. He hadn’t thought he’d ever have to find out what life would be like without Roy, either.

He had to be there for his family, though. He could hardly believe how much he’d pushed them aside the past few months, but that stopped here and now. He couldn’t lose _anyone_ else— even if losing Gracia would likely be in a different context, if he kept disregarding her worries. Maes wouldn’t be able to make it through another heartbreak, he knew that. And… she was having another _baby_. He still couldn’t comprehend it. They’d wanted one, of course, and they’d been trying… but all of their plans for a larger family felt like they’d happened years ago, even though it’d just been a few short months.

So _much_ had happened in those months.

Gracia, as if sensing his sorrow, as she always seemed to do, spoke again. “I thought… I was thinking that maybe, if the baby’s a boy,” she began, then hesitated. Maes had no idea where she was going with this. She met his eyes. “I thought we could name him Roy.”

 _Oh_.

Roy… Roy Hughes.

It was a hell of a name to live up to, but the idea made him so, _so_ happy. And sad, too, of course, but mostly…

Maes’ eyes stung. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say to begin to express his gratitude. “I love you so much,” he settled on, voice tight. “I… _yes_ , I’d like that.”

Gracia _beamed_ at him. “I love you, too,” she said. “But the baby might be a girl, so we’ll have to look at other options, as well.”

Either way, this was everything Maes could have ever hoped for. It was perfect, or at least… as close to perfect as things could get, after they’d already gone so horribly wrong. The future didn’t seem so bleak, suddenly, not with another baby on the way.

Maes couldn’t wait a second longer before he pulled his wife into an embrace.

* * *

Something immediately felt… off, when Roy woke up.

It didn’t take him long to realize what it was. He jolted upright immediately, and the small twinge of pain it sent through his abdomen was familiar.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the less familiar sight of his left leg.

Or… lack thereof.

Because where he’d had a cast for _months,_ now he just had a bandaged stump.

He stared at it for several seconds, utterly uncomprehending. It… it _felt_ like he still had a limb there, but he was looking directly at it and—

“I’m sorry.” Roy whirled around to see Marcoh sitting beside his cot. “Envy destroyed the bone, and even with proper medical supplies I wouldn’t have been able to save the limb. Maybe with a stone, but they’ve stopped letting me use it now that there’s no danger of you dying, and I… I had to amputate.”

The memories came back to Roy in a rush, then. His escape attempt, Envy catching him, and then… then they’d punished him for it.

It made sense, now that Roy could recall what had happened. Envy had… they’d _shattered_ the bone to pieces, purposefully doing irreparable damage to his leg. And the amount of _pain_ he’d been in… well. Roy wished that those particular memories had stayed foggy.

Still, staring at where he’d once had a leg and now had _nothing_ filled him with a cold, numbing sort of dread. The true hopelessness of his situation had hit him with all the force of Envy’s blows.

_Good luck running now._

The message would’ve been clear even if Envy hadn’t said it. Any further attempts to escape would yield similar results, he was sure. More permanent damage. Envy had clearly lost their patience, something he hadn’t even known the homunculus had to begin with. They would destroy him, piece by piece, until he cooperated. But they would never let him leave.

And they wouldn’t let him die. Not until he’d served his purpose.

He was simply trapped.

“Are you all right?” Marcoh asked, and Roy was surprised by the genuine concern in his voice. The man had often seemed too preoccupied with his own situation to worry about Roy. Then again, he could have just as easily been Envy in another disguise. Roy didn’t think he cared anymore. “Colonel?”

Roy didn’t take his eyes off of the pitiful remains of his leg, and wondered dully if Edward had felt this way when he lost _two_ of his own limbs. He wondered what the kid was doing, right now. Or Hughes, or Riza. He didn’t know if could afford to care about _that_ anymore, either. Not when he was becoming more and more certain by the moment that he’d never see any of them again. That he’d never see anything besides these four walls again, Doctor Marcoh when he was lucky, the homunculi when he wasn’t.

“No,” he said, at length. His voice came out hoarse, presumably from screaming. He remembered screaming. “No, I don’t think I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel... very bad, but this chapter was a necessary evil for events that will transpire with Roy later in this AU, you'll see. I'm not just destroying this man for no reason! But... you've seen the title, you clicked anyway, what else did you expect? (Thanks for reading, by the way).
> 
> It's not all bad, though! I know a lot of you were excited about the Ed and Hughes make-up, and Maes and Gracia naming their baby Roy is a result of me tearing up from seeing one-too-many posts about people headcanon-ing that if Riza and Roy ever had a son, they'd name him Maes. Which I fully support, so I've done the reverse here. Whoops.
> 
> Envy's a total dick, though, huh? I love writing them, honestly. What a great villain. And their power has the potential for just... the Most Hurt.
> 
> Still, I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to yell at me in the comments, I love hearing what you think! The next works in this AU are going to be fairly ambitious as the plot gets more and more complex in the series, but remember, no matter how long waits end up being, I'm determined to see this AU through to the end, because I love working on it so much. Thank you for reading!
> 
> EDIT: I wrote [another extra](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25867720)! A super long one, too, so if you guys need incentive to follow those extras in addition to this series, it's more than 13k words. Almost 14k. It's a gift for Lilituism, who has been making [AMAZING art](https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/62850529?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_334234528) for this series! And I think you'll really enjoy it, both the art and the new extra, so I hope some of you see this and check it out. I'll add this here and to the next update of the main series (whenever that is, this series is a Huge undertaking but even if it takes me ages we'll get to the End I have planned). Absolutely love you all for your continued support.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, my sincerest apologies for the far too long wait (more like a hiatus, however unintentional it was). But it's over now. I'm already working on the second half of this part, and I'm even more excited about what will happen in THAT update, which should be out soon. Please me know your thoughts down below on this one (I'm really hoping I didn't lose too many readers with the long break), and thank you so much for reading.
> 
> [Here's](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24426496) a little something extra to hold you over for the long break, however! 
> 
> I'm writing extras for this AU! Most of those will probably happen after the plotline as the show as I don't want to give up on the world I've created even after we hit Promised Day, but it'll be fun to post short stories and miscellaneous things on there from time to time. I hope a little bonus content means you all aren't as mad at me for the wait!
> 
> EDIT: There's been art made for this part, as with all the ones before it, and it's all ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC! Please go check it out [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/71192370?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_391018536)


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